Scotland was totally showing off when we were at Califer Hill on our first day. Gena and Tray drove us up here after dinner to help stave off jet lag, and I was like, "Ugh, I just want to go to bed." And my husband was like, "Don't be lame." And Scotland was like, "Ta-da!"

The trip included talks and demonstrations from three local-ish painters. I'm so glad the first one was Ginny Elston, who gave us a workshop on greens. Summer in the Scottish countryside is incredibly green, and her lesson was just what we all needed at the start of our trip.

After an indoor lesson in mixing greens with various yellows, blues, and purples, we sat outside to make some little paintings on scraps of primed paper she had prepared for us. Mine is covered in burnt sienna, which is such a pretty warm complement to my cool greens (and blues).

I didn’t know that a cottage garden is a defined thing until I was at Brodie, where an old stone wall is the backdrop for one. Its wildness is just on the right edge of crazy. I was immediately hypnotized by it. As always when I learn something new, I dig a little deeper, and I collected a bunch of the dual descriptions I read about cottage gardens because they’re always described with two:

• Cozy and profuse
  
• Informal and romantic
  
• Relaxed and abundant
• Pretty and purposeful
• Graceful and charming
• Ornamental and edible
• Surprising and triumphant

     The contrasts among these visual and moody descriptions are right up my painting alley, but what really struck me was that nurturing a cottage garden is about editing. You can plan it by throwing down seeds you like, but you let them be as they grow and change. Then when they’re mature you start to take some out and prune keep that balance between carefree and thoughtful. That’s just like painting!