Growing up in West Virginia, I lived in a contemporary home surrounded by tall trees and mountains. My brother and I spent many of our days playing along a small creek that wound through the valley behind our house. Being a year older and four inches taller than my brother, I saw the creek first and quickly proclaimed it mine. My brother protested; I boasted. Giving in to the fatigue created by chasing two boys under the age of five, our parents simply relented, “Okay, it’s Gat’s Creek.” The name stuck and actually appears on maps now. My brother eventually and kindly forgave me. Today, Gat Creek lives in our minds as a home of youth, nature and discovery—the essence of furniture that you will find in the following pages.