As a child, from ages 6 to 10, venturing into the woods was my sanctuary, a magical realm filled with life and adventure. Stepping into the woods felt like entering another world. I spent hours chasing butterflies and watching insects, squirrels, rabbits, and deer, all while feeling an exhilarating sense of freedom. It was a solace, a place where I was happy and filled with joy! I was unafraid, spontaneously exploring and discovering!

Those moments were pure bliss, and the forest felt like an extension of my spirit, essential to my being. However, everything changed when my family moved away, leaving me heartbroken over the loss of my beloved refuge.

I often go back to my hometown. Everything has changed on the land where I used to live. The absence of that vibrant nature weighs heavily on my heart. Though I cherish the memories filled with joy and curiosity, my visits are a bittersweet reminder of what I have lost.

My days of entering that environment weren’t an obsession; it was as much a part of me as the air I breathe.