Interrogating Landscapes

The pure joy of our hedgerows

Welcome to my wee corner of Substack. I am a seasonal artist living on the Isle of Arran, off the west coast of Scotland. I am the custodian of approximately two acres of land that includes a woodland, a meadow and my wee garden. I offer a seasonal book arts project for paid subscribers if you are interested and you can read more about that HERE. Grab a cuppa and lets delve into our relationship with the shifting seasons…..

I remember a walk when I was really quite small and I came across rosehips for the first time and, in trying to grab one, I hurt my finger. Despite the fuss and the inevitable tears, I still gathered a sprig of rosehips and took them home to put on my bedroom windowsill. I can remember drawing them and painting them although I have no idea what happened to the precious rosehips in the end. It was, without doubt, the beginning of a life long love affair with hedgerows. I grew up in the countryside and now live on a small scottish island and therefore hedgerows have always featured in my world. For me, they help to steer us through the changing seasons and if you want to see some seasonal shifts look deep into the nearby hedgerow. The council love to cut them back and on the island this can become a little obsessive. However, just beyond my garden gate the council owned road runs out and a forestry track begins and so the hedgerow is left well alone.

Have you ever wondered how many different plant and wildlife species occupy your nearby hedgerow? Go and take a look as you might be surprised. On my last count I counted over 50 different plants and animals and some I had to dive into the ID books to identify. Hedgerows offer wildlife a wonderful sanctuary away from the dangers from preditors and the modern world and in more recent years we have understood this and now ‘wildlife corridors’ are being established and the edges of agricultural land is often left well alone. We appear to be finally learning from our own mistakes.

A couple of years ago I ran an online course dedicated to interrogating landscape through a mixed media approach and I chose my beloved and rather wild hedgerow. Dusting down my camping chair and grabbing my art supplies I set up right opposite the hedgerow and began to record and within minutes I felt a deep connection with the story that was unfolding in front of my eyes. It was the summer but I could see tell-tale signs that autumn wasn’t far away. The thing I noticed most was how well different plant species existed side by side or even on top of each other. The upper canopy provided shade and the ferns offered up quiet deep places perfect for sheltering in. It was a rich tapestry of diversity and I wanted to bottle it and shout from the rooftops about how important such habitats are. I wonder if anyone would have heard me?

Instead, every day for a few weeks I visited the hedgerow to look for more and more details and record as much as I could see in my sketchbook. Quickly, this shifted to more about how the hedgerow made me ‘feel’ and how it connected me deeply with the smallest details in the natural world. I remember being so touched by the dog rose and its beautiful delicate petals amongst the labryinth of foliage. The early bramble fruit and the dark eyes of small birds peering out at me. They were probably wondering what I was doing? I was wondering what I was doing? I was also wondering how I could do such an amazing landscape justice until one chilly evening. after a storm, when I gathered up some fallen branches and the idea came to me. I was going to print this hedgerow using material gathered from it by way of a homage to a special place in my life.

For what seemed like days I was lost in my studio printing using leaves, flowers and seedheads until I felt a small creative narrative begin to form. I used recycled fabric from the island charity store and a colour palette that spoke to the ending of the summer and the beginning of autumn. Squashed early berries on the ground were reflected in my paint choices and then I looked for a highlight. Days passed with no success. I knew I was looking for something but I didn’t know what. Eventually, I decided that the piece would reflect the summer and would begin with the flowering foxgloves that had now all gone to seed and arched their way out of the hedgerow. I would inlude the beautiful St John’s Wort poking its wee face out of the greenery that surrounded it. I would not forget the dandelions that appeared almost before summer got going. All this in a piece of textile art just 6 inches square. I set about cutting up some of the printed fabric. I also found some old cotton lace and dyed it using St John’s Wort to give me the yellow highlight I was looking for.

As I stitched on the machine and by hand I felt like I was stitching this unassuming hedgerow into a space in my world that I could forever treasure. I felt that I understood the beauty and importance of this landscape and now I could share that. I took my students through that journey with me and they took me on their journey interrogating their special landscape. It was a joyful few months that I will never forget.

One day last year, I heard the council out cutting back but it sounded a bit close so I went out to investigate and to my horror found them about to start hacking away at this very hedgerow that I love so much. I am not sure what they thought was going on as they mad woman waving her arms and shouting was charging towards them but it was enough for them to switch their machines off. I explained that this was beyond their jurisdiction and they packed up and moved away. As we wondered down the hill together we got chatting about the hedgerows and the important part they play and I expalined about my piece of textile art and the journey I had been on. I explained the shape of the year in terms of the hedgerow and the need for it to be able to self seed. The council still come up my road to cut back the hedgerow but not until after the end of July for which I am very grateful (they never touch the hedgerow that borders the track). Since that change in management I have seen even more glorious things in the hedgerow that borders the road and have had to dive in to get my ID book on many an occasion. Just as it should be.