Tag Archives: birch trees

Forest of Fairhill 6

Above: Birch Trees. Fairhill 2. 18th April. Charcoal on A4 paper. Rose Strang 2026

A gaggle of geese greeted us today at Fairhill, one chased after me for a while with its neck extended and tongue out, hissing like a wild cat. The ground was covered in rook-droppings from the Scots Pines above us. The whole energy had picked up and as soon as we walked into the trees I could feel the humidity and scents of late spring rising up from the grass. All of nature waking up.

(I’m taking notes and writing a blog post each time I go to Fairhill, which is a piece of forest land owned and managed by the Life Science Centre, which is informed by Goethean science and philosophy. My trips to Fairhill are my record of a Goethean approach to observation – bringing a deeper awareness and understanding of nature. Sketching is an important part).

The resident hare greeted us at the edge of the birch forest and bounded off, its black ear tips visible every so often. We went back to the same spot. I looked for my tightly coiled fern from last time, but there were so many, after just one week, all popping up their spiral heads in varying states of unfurling.

I sketched a couple of those and the birch forest in pencil first. Then three sketches in charcoal.

It sounds obvious, but I was really aware of the fact that efforts to draw or sketch trees weren’t working, what worked was drawing the patches of light, pattern and shade. This is drawing level 1, but it’s interesting how I forget! I wanted to sketch  birch leaves, but two hours had past, it was 5pm and time to head to Gifford.

To say it was a beautiful day is inadequate. I felt like I’d been dropped into a film about a rural idyll, one that would win awards for amazing cinematogrpahy. but better because of all the scents. Adam recorded the sounds of Fairhill as we came in – crawing rooks, swaying trees, hissing geese. It will make a great soundtrack for an exhibition at some point maybe.

Gifford was a continuation of the being-dropped-in-a-film mood, with 1940s music playing, old crackelure-d paintings and super-polite friendly staff who asked us how our day had been and plied us with afternoon scones.

I meant to write more about Goblin Ha near Gifford. I’ll do that next time.

At the moment I’m building up feature pages about our Traces project. I’m keeping it password protected while we develop the project and organise a private screening of the film and showing of paintings. If you’re interested in learning more, here’s a link to an essay about the ideas behind the Traces project, and here’s an interview with me, about Traces, by art collector and author Robert de Mey.

If these resonate with you, and you’d like get in touch about it, contact me and I’ll send a link to the password protected page. rose.strang@gmail.com

 

Fairhill and Goblin Ha’

Above: Birch Trees. Fairhill. 18th April. Charcoal on A4 paper. Rose Strang 2026

The same hare that greeted us at Fairhill appeared on cue as we arrived, bounding through the birches.

Given that I was there to let nature speak to me, rather than impose my big artist’s ego onto the scene, I decided to follow it! It veered off just before the willow shelter, I looked down and saw a tightly curled fern amidst the swaying slender birches and though ‘this’ll do’.

This is my first litle foray into a Goethean approach to observation. At the first stage – you just draw exactly what you see.  A bit like going back to art college. I enjoyed it though. There’s no harm in slowing down to simply observe.

It struck me how both the fern and the birches grow up in spurts, with each burst of energy marked by a band, or leaf. The fern looked so tightly coiled, almost hairy-looking with its fronds, slightly unsettling. These bands showing growth are most marked in bamboo, which reminded me of Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. The way the bamboos swayed so mysteriously, just like the sun-dappled birches that swayed above my head as I drew. And again there was that strange sensation I had last time, the noise of the trees almost sounding like speech. Maybe there was a birch forest here hundreds of years ago, when it was called Fairy Hill, and this sussuration (which to the human ear, seeking patterns, sounds almost like voices) led to the name of the place.

Adam painted a watercolour, then, our legs stiffened up by kneeling on the damp moss (we’re getting too old for all this kneeling and will bring fold-out stools next time!) we decided to head off in search of Goblin Ha’ in the valley of Yester. As we drove off, the large hare ran alongside to see us off!

We searched for Goblin Ha’ last Sunday in the pouring rain and mud. And when I say mud, I mean that there were serious levels and amounts of it. This weekend the sun was out thankfully, but the mud was still in full force.

 

I’d been begining to wonder if this ha’ (meaning ‘hall’) was even real. Last week as we returned to the car drenched and puggled, I was speculating on whether it might just be an elaborate hoax by the people who own the Yester estate. Maybe they film us struggling through the mud for entertainment, and the images of the hall I’d see online were ai.

Well …

We found it!

More on Fairhill and its mysterious surrounds in a couple of weeks.

Spring Exhibition

Above: Birch Trees and Willow Shelter 2. Mixed media on 14×14″ wood 2. Rose Strang 2026

Newly framed and ready to go. These three paintings of the Fairhill woodland near Yester Valley, East Lothian will be part of the spring group exhibition at The Limetree Gallery, Bristol, opening Saturday 25th April.

For enquiries please contact Limetree Gallery directly on this link – Contact

All paintings are on 14 by 14 inch wood in lime-washed obeche-wood frames.

#painting #scottishartist #woodland #pleinair #oilpainting #birchtrees #limetreegallery #edinburghartist #forestpainting