… And gathering swallows twitter in the skies
How beautiful the season is now—How fine the air. A temperate sharpness about it. Really, without joking, chaste weather—Dian skies—I never liked stubble-fields so much as now—Aye better than the chilly green of the spring. Somehow, a stubble-field looks warm—in the same way that some pictures look warm. This struck me so much in my Sunday’s walk that I composed upon it.
From a letter John Keats wrote to his friend J. H. Reynolds, the “silken phrase & silver tongue” poet wrote of his inspiration for a poem he wrote from which the title of this post is borrowed.
The swallows gathered this morning outside my window in Zagori in anticipation of their southbound trip towards their warmer second home.
The photos are from this gathering.