Seasonal living is about tuning into nature’s rhythms, aligning your life with the earth’s cycles, and embracing the gifts each season offers.

Over the past year, I lived in a van in a beech wood, surrounded by the ever-changing landscape. Now, with winter’s chill, I’ve taken shelter indoors – a choice that feels sensible and in keeping with the season. But as I step back into the woods, I’m often struck by how much has transformed without me noticing.

Winter has been a time of inward focus for me. I’ve spent evenings stitching a quilt, learning the guitar, and savouring comforting meals of root vegetable soup and stewed apples. These quiet pastimes have felt like planting seeds of creativity, tucked away for spring’s arrival. There’s something about the slower pace of winter that invites us to turn inward, to rest, and to dream about what we’ll create when the days grow longer.

Winter’s end, spring’s beginning

February is an in-between month, where the stillness of winter begins to give way to the energy of spring. The days are longer, the light is softer, and if you look closely, you’ll see signs of life returning –buds swelling on branches, snowdrops emerging, birds singing a little louder. These small, beautiful shifts remind us that nature is quietly preparing for a new season.

I’ve noticed this transition in my own habits. While I’m still drawn to cosy evenings, I’m also beginning to feel the pull to plan for spring – to imagine mornings in the garden, walks among wildflowers, and the energy of re-emergence. It’s a gentle nudge from the earth, inviting us to stir from our winter rest.

To honour this seasonal shift, I’ve found joy in small, mindful acts. Eating seasonally has been grounding – hearty root vegetables during the colder months, and the anticipation of wild garlic and early greens as spring approaches. Spending time outside, even briefly, connects me to the earth’s rhythm.

Balancing reflection and preparation

February feels like a time to balance reflection and preparation. What have you nurtured in the quiet of winter? How can you carry that energy into spring? For me, the quilt I’ve stitched feels like a promise of summer picnics, and the guitar I’ve learnt feels like music to carry into festival parties.

By embracing the subtle energy of February, we live in harmony with the earth’s quiet shift – a season of readiness and renewal, waiting to bloom.