Somewhere on a near English shore, undoubtedly under a cold mantel of rain and fog, there is an artist pressing love and talent into loose-leaf pages that might eventually become a book and will undoubtedly be posted on social media (and cards to share!) in the meantime for millions to enjoy. Let's hope.

Hello. You've started at the beginning, which is impressive. I usually start in the middle and never read introductions. It's surprising that I've made a book because I'm not very good at reading them. The truth is, I need pictures, they are like islands, places to get to in a sea of words.   Albert Camus admitted he needed to touch something to understand it, needed it to retract and then return. Borges said something similar in one of his last interviews, in his case, his blindness made "seeing" obsolete.

Charlie Mackesy's (born December 11, 1962) The Boy, the Mole, the Fox, and the Horse is almost warm to the touch, pulsing with heart.

The words are sparse. It is a picture book. Scenes formed with imagination and the sharp edge of a fountain pen. Characters are memorable in the way only English characters can be. "This book is for everyone," writes Mackesy in one of the few pages with text.

The Boy, the Mole, the Fox, and the Horse is the very thing you need right now.

 "I'm so small." said the mole." "Yes," said the boy, "but you make a huge difference."

This book is for everyone, whether you are eighty or eight - I feel like I'm both sometimes. I'd like it to be one you can dip into anywhere anytime, start in the middle, if you like. Scribble on it, crease the corners, and leave it well-thumbed.

I love how Mackesy suggests the book be an object of comfort. A joy of adulthood is that our vast imagination crafts objects of comfort that are not always "comfortable" (unlike the blanket or soft toy of childhood)—things made precious through caring.

 "I think everyone is just trying to get home." said the mole.'

The drawings include a boy, a mole, a fox, and a horse. Their relationship rests on a mutual need for friendship, support, and curiosity. They have a unity of loneliness.

“I learned to assume that loneliness should be in part pleasure," wrote American novelist Marilynne Robinson, "And that is even a truer bond among people than any kind of proximity.”

 "Imagine how we would be if we were less afraid."

The "bond" of loneliness fuses these unlikely characters; without much to say, they travel, appear, and exist. Always in nature, specifically spring with all its fickleness.

They form an unlikely band and, through Mackesy's most delicate illustrations, personality. The boy is scared but strong, the mole is curious and silly, the fox is quiet and thoughtful, and the horse is a lovely grace, giving each a nuzzle or ride when needed.

 "Life is difficult, but you are loved."

One senses there is a little bit of Mackesy in each character. There is a bit of me as well. You too?

I hope this book encourages you, perhaps, to live courageously with more kindness for yourself and for others. And to ask for help when you need it - which is always a brave thing to do.

In Paris, on the glorious Arc de Triomphe, the French Government (one presumes) unfurled a banner designed by Mackesy featuring his characters with words reminding us how much love is in the world. A triumph indeed. And then someone made an Oscar-winner film of the foursome.

Words sprinkled on the page in the same brush strokes as the characters, with expressions unimaginably deep and thank goodness never too soppy. What a gift, this book and its creator.

 "So much beauty we need to look after."

From his occasional comments on social media, one can easily get the sense that the gentle soul Mackesy is humbled by his success but never far apart from the world he creates.

When I was making this book I often wondered, who on earth was I to be doing this? But as the horse says: "the truth is everyone is winging it." So I say spread your wings and follow your dreams - this book is one of mine. I hope you enjoy it and much love to you.

 "This storm will pass."

I imagine there are many such artists and makers and even politicians and business people who press love and self into their wares, hoping someone grabs the piece and feels loved. Clutch The Boy, the Mole, the Fox and the Horse close to your heart, or feel the uplifting grace of Mary Oliver's Dog Songs, Walt Whitman's grace-bestowing "Song of Myself" and my look at the importance of touch to our communication and communion and things that lift our chin to beauty.