With the warm weather of the past two days, some things have suddenly changed. The long spell of cool weather kept a forsythia in the next block blooming for three weeks; suddenly it is covered with small green leaves and the blossoms are at last falling off. Tulip blooms that had stayed fresh for weeks curled and withered in the past twenty-four hours.

Swallows are everywhere over the river now. Rough-winged Swallows have claimed the space around the State Street bridge. I saw a few Purple Martins over the river downstream of the railroad bridge. Tree Swallows seem to be everywhere.

Tree Swallows strike me as utterly alien beings. You can pretend that some birds and animals have vaguely human characteristics — Cardinals seem cheerful, Racoons seem smart and sly, even frogs can seem to take on a human character. But when I look at the bright round, slightly protruding eyes of Tree Swallows, I can’t imagine any human expression there. Whatever thoughts or feelings they have are wholly their own.