Day One at The Haven

The morning air was damp with leftover rain, the kind that settled deep in the ground and made the earth smell honest, a very natural feeling.

I stepped out of the car and zipped my jacket. Overhead, clouds drifted slowly, casting long gray shadows over the rising wooden frames of The Haven.

The site was busy-workers shouting measurements, the scent of fresh lumber sharp and clean, And yet, despite the noise, it felt sacred.

Then I heard the second car pull ...