My old house was built with clay where straws sticking out on the surface of foyer ceiling. Swallows built a nest high up on the ceiling where bare electric wire was running. The swallows came every spring to the same nest. I am like a swallow who just arrived to the nest after a long trip from the south. On a nice spring day, the swallow would fly over to GyungBok Palace nearby and perch on a titled roof and stare at a clear court yard and become reflective of the yesteryears.
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