The wave loves the old woman. That is why it waits on dry land, curled over her house, bent low to hear her every word. Most of these are grumpy, though, for the old woman has lived her whole life beneath the wave and therfore can see nothing good in it. Her roof is stuck like a pincushion with umbrellas, which she hopes will stem the drippings and droppings from above. But no. She and the wave go on with their lives until a wanderer appears and sees not the bother in the wondrous wave, but the possibilities. And then the old woman can see them, too, and together with her old dog Bones she flows away toward the blue and distant mountains, surging and plunging, swirling and climbing in a washtub boat she"s had handy just in case the wave ever fell. It had fallen years ago: in love. The words and spectacular collage paintings make something majestic out of newfound vision -- an original way for sharing with young dreamers.