Deep in the forest, resourcefulness becomes survival. Using clay from a riverbank and an abandoned iron wheel, I crafted a sturdy, dome-shaped shelter within the wild boar’s lair—a hidden hollow beneath gnarled roots. The clay, mixed with straw, formed thick, insulating walls that repelled wind and rain. The old wheel became the shelter’s reinforced door, hinged to swing shut against intruders. Inside, a small fire pit warmed the space, while clay shelves held foraged supplies. Though the boars returned at dusk, they accepted me as part of the den. In stillness, we coexisted—man and beast—bound by the quiet rhythm of the wild.
