Springtime, he pulls up the bucket from inside the well. He looks inside, sifts through what he can find. He’s quickened, the words bubbling up.
Summertime, he falls in love with life. There’s too much to do in the bustling outdoors. He sets his writing aside.
Then autumn arrives. The shortening of days, the falling leaves – his pen and papers call to him. So many stories to tell.
But autumn doesn’t last long. Suddenly, he’s mired in bleak winter. Nothing better to do but sit by the fire with his beloved books and wait for the well to fill again.



Perfect--and with you by that fire ...