For a couple of weeks now, mama barn swallow has been sitting on her nest under the llama’s shade place. It’s a clever nest, attached to the roof, and she has used it twice a year for the last four years. This morning, I found a broken egg shell on the ground. It means that at least one of the babies has hatched. It’s such a tiny shell; it fits on the tip of my index finger like a little hat. Miracles are everywhere when we remember to look for them.