to fill your conscious. The urge to create shelter is engrained within us all. We build simple structures as soon as we are old enough to drape blankets over chairs or tie twigs together. I once turned the back room of my Grandfather's clothing store into a spacious cardboard apartment with nothing but a hammer and three boxes of roofing nails. It was a masterpiece, but they always are. The magic happens once we cross the threshold of our new abode. It is a special feeling -- empowering. One only need observe my daughter play within her tiger tent to validate this statement. She cannot be seen nor heard, regardless of the racket she makes inside. Why? Because she is inside. Hunting doesn't afford us the same security, but the sense of empowerment is similar. We wouldn't bother building such fortresses if we doubted their effectiveness, but we can only prove said effectiveness in the field by encountering game. For a moment, imagine such an encounter... It is early morning, and eerily quiet. The forest has just begun to wake up: birds begin to chirp, squirrels continue their winter preparation, trees creak against one another, casting remaining leaves to the floor below. You lose yourself to the rhythm of it all, allowing your mind to drift. If not for anything else but to remain still and quiet. You are totally alert -- your body ready to act -- yet you fight to keep your eyes open. Then, when you least