Realizing I was exhausted and talking to myself, I sat down and leaned back against a cottonwood tree. I began dreaming ... dreaming of a giant of a man with his small son by his side, making a pair of big and little foot prints all over Red River bottom; Long, long ago.
Meandering between reality and fantasy, I dreamed of a machine that would help me gather dogwood. My dream machine could metamorphosis from a deep water barge into a swift water canoe and then into a dune buggy and then into a bulldozing-dogwood-hauling freighter.
I dreamed I was a wild man running through the woods gathering wildwood. I wound up at a little church in a vale. The name on the church sign read WildwoodChurch. People were lined up waiting for me to build them a chair and they were calling me Wildwood Dean.
Zap! Suddenly I was jolted awake by lightning and a clap of thunder.