Nestled within the cavernous heart of an ancient, lightning-struck oak, my hollow tree shelter offers surprising refuge. Thick bark walls insulate against wind and rain, while careful clearance ensures dry bedding of spruce boughs. Just outside the gnarled entrance, a small, contained fire pit—lined with stones—crackles efficiently. Here, I skewer freshly caught trout on green sticks, roasting them over glowing embers, the smoky aroma mingling with damp earth. Nearby, a sharpened stick holds gathered cattail roots, ready for boiling in a makeshift bark pot. This natural fortress demands constant awareness: managing fire safely, sourcing clean water, and crafting essential tools from the forest itself—pure, focused survival.
