Dryad

When I was ten years old, I lived in a campground in Knutsford, British Columbia, just outside Kamloops. Mostly, the area was beige desert ranch country that stank of alkaline water, but the campground was located in a lovely tiny valley with lots of trees. The valley almost looked like a pit dug out of the rolling hills surrounding it. The hill immediately behind my home, a 31' travel trailer, rose very steeply for about fifty feet until levelling off to scrub and tiny cacti, and ( a dusty, tumbleweed-swept construction yard. )