A single dark crow flies past the weathered, grey-green barn, its thatched roof covered in patches of bright, spring-green moss. Old, tangled vines gone dormant, cold and wet lay tired across the rafters – the beams heaving, stretching to support the jumbled masses. Just below, ten humble soldiers stand alert, their strong veins darkened by rain, their weary, hopeful faces anxiously awaiting the first signs of spring. A sparrow hops across the edges of the tattered fence posts, and patches of lichen crowd towards the pale marine sky, hoping to capture the first drops of distant sunlight.