Christmas was coming, I was considering what present I should prepare for my father.My dad never wants anything, for he is a hard person to buy for . I pulled out my phone to read text message from my mom saying that we were leaving for Christmas shopping for him when I came across a message on my phone that I had locked. The message was from my father.My eyes fell on a photo of a flower taken in Wyoming,and underneath a poem by William Blake. The flower,a lone dandelion standing against the bright blue sky,inspired me. My dad had been reciting those words to me since I was a kid. That may even be the reason why I love writing. I decided that those words would be my gift to my father. I called back. I told my mom to go without me and that I already created my gift. I sent the photo of the cream colored flower to my computer and typed the poem on top of it. As I was arranging the details another poem came to mind .The poem was written by Edgar Allan Poe;my dad recited it as much as he did the other. I typed that out as well and searched online for a background to the words of it. The poem was focused around dreaming,and after searching I found the perfect picture. The image was painted with blues and greens and purples,twisting together to create the theme and wonder of a dream. As I watched both poems passing through the printer,the white paper coloring with words that shaped my childhood. I felt that this was a gift that my father would truly appreciate. Christmas soon arrived. The minute I saw the look on my dad's face as he unwrapped those swirling black letters carefully placed in a cheap frame,I knew I had given the perfect gift. The idea for a special gift began to form when the author was   _  .
doing shopping having a debate reading a message leaving for Wyoming