If January is the misplaced month, then February is the fickle one. It gives with one hand and snatches back with the other. We wait patiently for it to arrive throughout the inconspicuous days of January, hoping that when it comes, it will bring with it discernible signs of spring. And yet, more often than not, we find ourselves held hostage in the relentless grip of winter. But if we take the time to look, we will see that February is actually a plucky little month; one full of courage and determination. For underneath the silver-thatched grass and iron-clad earth, the cycle of the seasons is well underway.

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