One swallow does not make a summer

This morning I watched the swallows whizzing through the clouds like huge flies against a snowy backdrop. It was wonderful to watch them, dipping, diving, gliding and madly flapping their wings. I'm sure there was some purpose to it all but they looked like they were dancing through the skies just because they were so glad to be alive. Beautiful! Hours later I looked out of the window again to see them still there, this time joined, high above by a lone buzzard; huge against the little fork tailed swallows. Now the sun has broken through and is high in the sky I only see that solitary buzzard, like a shadowy silhouette against the light blue of a summer's day. It makes me glad to be alive.