Hidden beneath twisted roots and thick moss, my shelter lies deep in the forest, untouched by trails or footprints. I used fallen branches, clay, and layered ferns to blend it into the earth. From above, it’s invisible—just another bump in the terrain. Inside, it’s dry, warm, and mine alone. A small entrance, camouflaged with vines, leads to a snug space where I keep supplies and a bed of pine needles. No GPS, no maps—just instinct and silence. This is my sanctuary, far from noise and eyes. I built it with my hands and heart. And as the wind whispers through the trees, I know: nobody can find it.
