Two little swallows sit on the wall and watch me through the kitchen window, as I wash dishes and wait for my freshly-baked muffins to bake. Their black-streaked chests framed by red-edged back wings are too small to be magnificent. Their beady-eyed faces looking worried. They have just returned in the last few days from wherever it is they spend their Northern Hemisphere summers to nest under the roof outside the front door.