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.