My journey began with a crude lean-to—branches lashed against a fallen log, barely shielding me from rain. It taught me humility and the forest’s raw demands. Next came the debris hut: a dome woven from saplings, thickly thatched with ferns and leaves. Warmer, drier, it whispered lessons in insulation and patience. Finally, the log cabin emerged—not grand, but sturdy. Hewn timber, chinked gaps, a proper door. Each structure marked a shift: from survival to comfort, from frantic effort to thoughtful craft. The forest didn’t just house me; it shaped my hands, my mind, and my respect for the slow, essential art of building shelter from wild things.
