Shelter in the Hollow

Stumped back from the culvert into thicker timber. Night came fast. Found an ancient fallen pine wedged against a granite boulder. Huge trunk, rotted hollow right at the base. Poked my head inside. Smelled like dry peat and old bark. A soft gray moth fluttered out, bumping my cheek. I pulled my hands back so I wouldn't crush it. Waited until it drifted up into the branches. Then I crawled under the heavy arch, sat down with my back against the dense wood, and let my knuckles rest in the dry soil. Good, quiet shelter.