It’s all for show, of course, like so much else in this town. It’s a four foot high cylinder, with a wooden cover and a wrought-iron handle over the top. I’ve never seen inside; I presume it’s dark down there and, anyway, the bucket has long since fallen apart and been thrown away. No rope, no bucket; no water.
At some point, though, the well came first and the town followed. You need the source, you need the first thing. then all the other things follow. That’s the lesson for today (sorry, yes, there is a lesson; just remember that I’m mostly talking to myself here and you’re just eavesdropping — it’s all right to be a scold and a condescending ass when you’re condescending to yourself); as I say, that’s the lesson: find the source, the irreplaceable, immovable; and build around that.
