Tiny footsteps softly patter through the snow. The air is frigid, and a profound sense of solitude envelops me. My parents departed the night before, and their departure seemed final. Trust had eroded between us, and I found myself abandoned in the quiet woods. They left behind a meager supply of food, some money, and a handful of my possessions. The discovery of my diary became the catalyst for this abrupt separation.
I couldn't blame them, though society might. At 14, I was a bit of a handful, not always fitting in seamlessly with others.
My Parent’s would say “ Lacey why can’t you be like the other boys and girls” Honest answer: I neither wanted to or could pretend to be an idiot that follows everything adults say and become a slave to a societal system. Honestly, the woods was the best place for me. No Systems, No Jungle, Only survival
My first days in the woods were spent in the exact location my parents left me. It was certain they weren’t coming back, but the clearing they left me in was far away from the road and had an immense amount of open space. After the sixth week, sleeping in the clearing it rained and I had to move into an empty cave that provided a Quote-on-quote roof where I could spend the night. Every night for the next 3 months was wet and muddy and extended my stay in the cave. I pushed heavy boulders around the entrance trying to close it off from animals. Bears were stronger than me and could plow through the Boulders in a matter of minutes, but I didn’t have another option.
For those three months, thoughts fixated on a roof over the clearing. Determined, I began crafting a makeshift tree house. Fallen tree pieces formed a smooth floor between two sturdy trees. Leaves served as a temporary roof until I could fashion a permanent one. A year into the wilderness, essentials were down, and the tree house evolved.
Using rocks, I worked to get pieces of a fallen tree smooth and used them to make the floor for a tree house. The clearing had two big trees next to each other. I used the wood designated for the floors to connect the two trees, giving me room to build out. After making the floors, I used leaves to make a temporary roof until I found more fall wood to make a permanent roof. After the first year of living in the woods, I had everything packed. Every year, I added on and learned new things.
I never had an inkling to go into town, and I never cried over anything in the woods,.
It wasn’t easy but I survived the first year with some scrapes. I found food and started planting seeds of things I liked. I went down to the water sources to grab some water. After finishing the essentials for the tree house, I started using the wood to make some tools like bowls and utensils. The wilderness became my teacher, and I, its eager student.
As the seasons cycled through their dance, my makeshift treehouse evolved into a sanctuary. The once-muddy clearing transformed into a haven with a breathtaking view of valleys and a serene lake. The creek, a mere five-minute walk away, provided a constant source of freshwater.
Survival became a routine, and each day brought a new lesson. The fallen tree became the foundation for my treehouse's floor, and rocks were meticulously shaped to create makeshift tools. As the winter marked my first year, I added more wood to my walls in an attempt to protect me from the harsh cold weather. Thankfully my parents left me a comforter and during the other seasons, I would find things left behind by campers that I used in my treehouse. My first find was some pillows and another comforter. I put the comforter against the walls to keep the home warm and in the summer I built another wall to put on the inside and left the comforter between the outside wall and the inside wall. It seemed to make a difference the treehouse was much warmer. The temporary roof was removed before the winter was over and a more permanent room made out of wood was put in just in time for spring, where this time around I got 4 months of rainy days.
After one of the rainy days, I came across an abandoned camp, The rain caused the camper to run quickly and left a lot of great stuff. I grabbed a duffel bag, two books, some shoes and clothes, three apples, a pear, strawberries, eggs, flour, milk, sugar, bacon, and some pans. It looked like they planned on making pancakes. I took them back to my camp and made pancakes missing the taste of sweet breakfast and meat. Those breakfast items lasted me 2 weeks.
With each passing year, I expanded my woodland abode, learning and adapting. I never felt the pull to venture into town, and tears were a luxury I couldn't afford in the solitude of the woods. I enjoyed some pleasantries when the camper left things behind.
The second year marked the establishment of a small garden, where seeds of my favorite plants grew under my care. I used the seeds of the apple, pear, and strawberries I got from the abandoned camp. I wish I could plan an egg and get a chicken. I didn’t want to hunt, but I really craved meat, I decided that I had to do what I needed to do to survive.
The water sources became not just a necessity but a destination, a place where I could reflect and connect with the rhythmic flow of nature. I would dip my feet in the creek and reflect on my life in the woods or go down to the lake and catch some fish with my hand. I got really good at it.
Completing the essentials for the treehouse, I turned my attention to crafting tools. Bowls and utensils emerged from the wood, shaped by hands that had become attuned to the language of the forest. The initial struggle had given way to a symbiotic relationship between nature and me.
Surviving wasn't just about finding food; it was about creating a life that embraced solitude. Each challenge, each scrape, became a stepping stone in my journey of self-sufficiency. The quiet woods became my companion, the rustling leaves a lullaby that accompanied me through the nights.
As time passed, the transformation was evident—from a 14-year-old thrust into the wilderness to a resilient individual thriving in harmony with nature at 20. The clearing, once a symbol of abandonment, became a canvas for the story of survival and growth. With the wisdom from the woods, I continued building not just shelter but a life attuned to the wild's rhythm.
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