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 dreamt of a machine that would help me gather dogwood. My dream machine could metamorphosis from a deep water barge into a swift water canoe into a dune buggy into a bulldozing-dogwood-hauling freighter. I dreamt I was a running through the wildwoods gathering wildwood. I wound up at a little church in a vale. The name on the church sign read Wildwood Church. People were lined up waiting for me to build them a wildwood chair. Dad's calling ... Is that you Wildwood Dean?