Spring is not a good season. Lethargy comes with spring, but this does not seem to be an excuse for laziness. Old habits of alcoholism take hold in the spring, and they never seem more serious in the fall and winter. Spring is imprisonment, the green color that gurgles in the poison pot brewed by the witch in fairy tales, insects, and noisy children. Everyone downstairs in the community has a ball, and that ball will be tossed around.
Spring is also creation, or the desire to create. Those small desires will whisper to him something that cannot be realized. Those desires will tell him to create, create something that even himself will be touched. They say then you will be happy with yourself.
Spring is rebirth, unimagined love, and those loves make spring less bad.
Concept: A story about creation and encountering love in creation