Tag Archives: plein air sketching

Lime Blossom

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Above: Lime Blossom at Leopold Place. Charcoal on A4 paper. Rose Strang 2026.

Lime Blossom, Linden, Tilleul, Tilia, or to give it its classic Latin name; Tilia Cordata. It’s one of the most elusive, romantic and emotionally resonant scents, and as each year passes I find myself more and more entranced and obsessed by its aroma. Something to do with ageing and the symbology of it all? The inexorable scythe that begins to hover over the head as we approach our later lives?!!

Today was so rainy and cold we decided to stay in Edinburgh rather than drive to Fairhill (otherwise known as Pishwanton) to sketch fern and birch.

I thought I’d sketch, in the comfort of the house, a lime blossom leaf, but it felt so wrong not to work from life, outdoors (I’m bored of the term en plein air). I’ve got used to the charge, or aura of the real subject, now that I’m focussing on straightfoward observation for a while (as part of my ongoing Fairhill series, which you can read about in my previous blogs.)

So I got my sketch pad and charcoal and walked along to the park on Leopold Place at the end of my street, to sketch the Limeblossom trees. And that immediately felt better. I was only there about 20 minutes, but it felt good to pay homage to one of my favourite trees.

Charcoal sketch Rose Strang 2026
Charcoal sketch Rose Strang 2026
Leopold Place. Rose Strang 2025

When I returned, I began to make dinner and a young buzzard (still slightly fluffy, in appearance if not personality) arrived on the tree outside our kitchen window, terrifying all the local birds. Fascinating to see such a sight in the city – he was something to observe to quote from Peter Gabriel’s Solsbury Hill!

It was somewhat grim watching him eat a pigeon, but mesmerising to watch such a bird up close. The local tits (and I don’t refer to my fellow Leithers!) and pigeons swooped up onto the opposite roofs, not daring to return to their favourite tree. It made up for missing out on our hare at Fairhill today.

Photo dam Brewster. May 2026
Photo Adam Brewster May 2026
Photo Adam Brewster May 2026

Back to lime blossoms though, they don’t properly emerge until June. This year I’m ready for them, and I’ll be posting about it on instagram every week or so, as the moment of ‘peak’ lime blossom approaches.

This is to celebrate the 1st anniversary of writing about perfume and scent on my perfume-related Substack and instagram, since my first ever post was about lime blossom last year. You can read or follow them on these links …

The Perfume Papers (Substack)  and on Instagram Rose Strang Perfume

Forest of Fairhill 6

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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.

‘Birch Trees, Fairhill 2. Charcoal on A4 paper. Rose Strang 2026
‘Birch Trees, Fairhill 3. Charcoal on A4 paper. Rose Strang 2026
‘Birch Trees, Fairhill 4. Charcoal on A4 paper. Rose Strang 2026

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