A bank. A River. The family tree. All have something in common With me.

Hidden deep within sections of text, the answer waits. What word is hidden?

A home of wood, both small and still, found deep in the woods by lake or hill.

I make space for life that else wouldn't thrive. Both small critters and green, here often not seen. A piece of faraway places at home may brighten some faces.

Giant scars, born over a milinnia. Jagged rock faces against a deserted backdrop, best watch your step here, or you'll be dead, full stop.