Alone in the wilderness, I felled trees with a hand saw, notched each log, and stacked them tight against the wind. My hands blistered, but I kept going—shelter meant survival. The crowning touch? A clay fireplace, molded from riverbank earth and reinforced with straw. It took days to dry, but when I lit the first fire, its warmth filled the cabin like a promise. Rain drummed on the roof; snow piled outside. Inside, the clay hearth radiated steady heat, cooking my meals and drying my socks. This cabin isn’t just wood and mud—it’s resilience, built log by log, fire by fire.
