Writer and critic Tom Jeffreys responds to Kirsten Glass's new body of work in the exhibition Night-Scented Stock.
The woods that line the Esk valley, south of Edinburgh, are scrawled with signs. Overlooked by Rosslyn Chapel, the valley is a magical place where institutional belief and folk practices overlap or overwrite each other. I walk there often, tracing symbols carved into rocks on the path down to a hidden water- fall, finding offerings left in the nook of an ancient chestnut, wondering what rituals might have taken place the night before. And it’s not only humans who write here: long glittering trails tell of night-lit snail journeys; deer tread narrow lines through bracken and horsetail.