It's early morning, before the sun has even touched the horizon. Humid mist covers the jungle floors like blankets of clouds. You can't see what's beneath it, so you must keep to the known path if you wish not to be bitten by anything poisonous.
As I walk down the path beside my father, I rub my eyes with the hand that is free. Adjusting to the glare of our torch. The moonlight is gently falling through the cracks of the canopy. Its soft cool glow always warms my heart.
I look around as I walk and see the trees that sprout hundreds of feet high. I wonder what it would be like to live up there? So many creatures and animals have their own world above the ground. Most never even touch the earth.
Carrying my bag on my back I shrug my body to keep it from sliding. My father, the man that he is, his size allows him no struggle as he carries his bag. Shrugging mine, he looks to me and says,
"Son, eventually you will be like your …