Rigging the Field Shelter

I moved beneath the hollow arch of the fallen birch to establish overhead cover. The bark formed a sturdy natural roof, but the open breeze cut straight through the under-gap. I unrolled a broad brown sycamore leaf I had salvaged from the path, laying it taut across the opening. Kneeling against the mossy ground, I took a curved safety pin and pinned the dry stem firmly into the decaying bark. I tugged the edge twice to test the resistance; it did not slip. The small perimeter is shielded, dry, and ready for a quiet watch.