The forest is so hidden and secretive, a perfect habitat for kiwis and keas and all sorts of wild creatures to roam the native park. The dense air seems to make sweating easier after last night's rainfall, I walk on the pathway which twisted and weaved through the undergrowth like a never ending brown snake. The forest entry to a place of huts had branches that split and twisted in every direction in a race for the light above the canopy.
A little further back I had just left a house that looks so warm and inviting with train like smoke which bellows from its chimney that smell of burning wood and coal wafts up my nose like that of a burnt cake, opposite was a huge tree trunk fallen down a few years ago that blocks the rest of the way through the dense, endless forest. The long wavy grass soaked through with dew ready to drench the next passer by.
As I turn to pick up wood I notice the mountains which stand tall and strong with a beard of green vegetation that covers almost the entire thing, the tiny white lines reassemble as waterfalls cascade down a cliff. Further down the raging river looks unforgiving and cold as rocks tumble into its icy depths.
As I finally place the last leaf on top of our 'wood storage' I can't help but let the sense of achievement ensnare me as I let out a cry of "I've done it!" My exhausted body can finally rest. I feel elated I have done it, I have built a hut.
