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Coming back from my morning garden rounds, I notice blossoms on the old apple tree east of the house. He who plants a tree proclaims hope for the future. I realize, with a note of humility, that I am someone else's future, the beneficiary of their foresight in planting this tree.

Good working weather today, a light breeze, blue sky with scattered fleecy clouds, and my energy level is high. I take advantage, planting a few more items - carrots, beets, and keeping ahead of the weeds, more or less. Mid-afternoon, I remember the well, and how it still produces sand. Perhaps it's time to call Willie, and ask what the next step is. Or maybe I should really give it all I've got a few more times.

So, I attach the gutter and start pumping. It soon becomes a workout, a test of my endurance. 50 strokes, starting to break a good sweat. Who needs a weight bench when you've got a well? Why pump iron when you can pump water? 100 strokes. This is where I usually stop for a breather. Pick it up a notch instead. 150 strokes, getting a second wind. Pump harder. I still see sand coming out. I try to envision the bottom of the well. Try to pump hard enough, fast enough, to suck all that sand out. 200 strokes. My heart is racing, my arms aching. Then it happens.

The handle suddenly goes slack, and my downstroke almost makes me fall down. I keep pumping a few more times, but there's no resistance. And there's no water coming out, either. Oh, wonderful. I've broken my pump.

I stand and look helplessly at my non-functioning well. Numbly, dumbly, I walk through the garden and down to the creek. Water. Pretty basic stuff. I vaguely wonder whether a well is all that necessary. The deer and rabbits and birds get by with the water in creeks and ditches and swamps. But - - no, I am a man, not an animal. A product of modern human society. I wouldn't trust my fragile system to swamp water. Even the Amish have wells.

Back in the house, I note with chagrin that, for all the water I've just pumped, I have only about 3 gallons at the ready. And no way to pump more. I'll have to drive to town tomorrow, get jugs of tap water again, and call Willie.