Harper Lane had been writing about her dreams since she first scribbled the word DREAM in a purple-shaded grape crayola, on the bank of a pin cushion sized pond in Catoosa, Oklahoma. To her, dreams were more splendid than reality, because dreams could not be kidnapped, like time.The roadside attraction was once charming and very much alive to Harper Laine, as she sat on the bank with a notebook and a purple crayon and began to dream about a place and a highway and a rainstorm and her father, which she turned into a parable to heal. May that restoration become a voice of strength to those that have lost their way.