The woods behind my house go on forever or at least that’s what five-year old me thought. Four years later I learned the woods stretch three miles. Not nearly enough to get lost in, but more than enough to silence my cries. Maple trees turned into white and red oak until you’d drown in a sea of pine trees of every name. Five year old me thought nothing of the tree variety in my backyard. It was the only place where I felt safe, where I could find peace and it still is. Years from now I’ll look back and notice almost every pivotal moment in my life happens in those woods. But that day when five-year old me ventured into the woods I discovered how fragile life is.