Watching the garden grow is increasingly recognised for its health benefits. Sandra Dick finds hundreds of therapeutic gardens around the country are helping to revitalise lives.

The wind was howling and in one of the worst snowstorms in living memory, Francesca Rychel left home without her winter coat and vanished into the wild blizzard.

It would take several hours and the efforts of mountain rescue teams and sniffer dogs to find her on a nearby hillside, severely hypothermic and barely alive.

She woke in hospital days later, furious. “I was angry,” she recalls. “I didn’t want to be there having to deal with things.

“I was so low, I didn’t get out of bed. I wasn’t eating or drinking. Visitors brought me nice things but I didn’t want them. I turned my face to the wall. I didn’t want to be there.”

Tormented by complex post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) linked to childhood experiences, it would not be counselling or modern medicine that would boost her recovery.

Instead, remarkably, it would be a packet of seeds, a flowerpot and a handful of potting compost. Left by her bed by a thoughtful nurse, the simple act of planting the seeds and watching them grow would become her motivation to slowly get better.

Today, mother-of-two Fran, 35, is among the volunteers at Space to Grow, a therapeutic garden a stone’s throw from the Huntlyburn mental health unit at Borders General Hospital in Melrose, which is gently nurturing green shoots of recovery from vulnerable and frail patients.

Originally an acre of forgotten land battling against waist-high brambles and choking weeds, it has been coaxed into life by patients, volunteers and staff to become a busy allotment where cheerful flowers bloom and a healthy crop of runner beans, squash, tomatoes, potatoes, courgettes, cucumber and herbs thrive. The therapeutic gardening it provides is increasingly recognised as delivering a range of health benefits, from boosting physical and mental health, to promoting conversation and stimulating thinking skills.

In recent years, hundreds of small therapeutic gardens and community allotments have sprung up across the country. Most are manned by devoted volunteers who tease overgrown and unloved land into vegetable plots, mini orchards, flower beds, and where potting sheds double as a focal point for socialising and cups of tea.

According to Fiona Thackeray of gardening charity Trellis, which provides guidance and support for almost 500 therapeutic gardening projects across Scotland, new ones are springing up at an average of one every week.

“When we first started the charity 13 years ago, people would look at me a little askance when I mentioned the therapeutic impact of gardening,” she says. “But the evidence has built up such a lot since then.

“We now have up to 50 new garden projects coming to us every year looking for help and support.

“These gardens are helping people to meet other people, recover from severe mental illnesses, get back to work, regain their motivation and receive support.”

Some gardens provide a space for refugees to share support and discover what kinds of plants, fruits and vegetables they can grow on Scottish soil.

Some in the grounds of nursing homes provide gentle activity for residents with dementia, while community gardens lure lonely people from home to meet new friends. Others encourage addicts to find solace in nature or provide calm space for cancer, heart attack or stroke patients.

For Fran, the small packet of seeds, flowerpot and soil left by Jan Moffat, the mental health nurse who developed Borders Hospital’s Space to Grow garden, would be life-changing.

“Jan brought in a packet of seeds, soil and the plant pot and just left them at my bedside table. I stared at them for a week, then one day decided to plant the seeds.

“That meant I had to get up to get water for them. When they got too big for the pot, I had to get dressed and repot them down in the greenhouse. It meant I had a reason to get up. Then I had to eat because I needed the energy to do what I wanted in the garden. I started to re-engage with life.”

It was, she adds, “transformational”.

“I now feel like myself for the first time in 10 years,” she says. “I’m working full time and I’m able to do more with my children. Without the garden, I might not be here at all.”

Jan Moffat, meanwhile, has seen the garden bring a range of benefits, from the patient who uses it as a peaceful spot to meditate to another who suffered agitated outbursts but now works off excess energy in the garden.

“For some it’s a break from boredom of the ward,” she adds, “while for others that link from nature gives them some respite from how they feel.”

There are hopes the garden will eventually provide similar therapeutic benefits to other hospital patients in the future.

Similar therapy gardens are thriving across the country. At Silverburn Park in Leven, Fife. work is under way to turn a B-listed former flax mill and gardens into a “Centre for Wellbeing” while Trellis fieldworkers are supporting volunteers in a revitalised walled garden and sensory garden.

In Paisley, a therapeutic garden is supporting ex-offenders, and in North Ayrshire another provides therapy for head injury patients.

In West Dunbartonshire, the Leamy Foundation gardens are helping to combat the loneliness and isolation that can lead to depression and anxiety. As well as boosting mood and self-esteem, they are teaching new skills and helping children understand the links between food, waste and nature.

Launched after a consultation with local foodbanks revealed around one-third of people attending identified as having mental health concerns, it has led to self-managed gardens popping up on spare plots of land in Alexandria housing estates and in raised beds at St Mungo’s Episcopal Church, where kale, sweetcorn, tomatoes, herbs and potatoes are growing alongside apple and plum trees and strawberries.

A partnership with West Dunbartonshire Council led to a network of community garden and allotment groups, while the foundation has also helped an addiction service launch a therapeutic garden of its own.

“We saw the isolation, anxiety and depression,” says project development manager Kevin Mason.

“We wanted to give people of all ages the chance to get out of the house and speak to people about how they are getting on, to share positive things in their lives and help each other.”

The impact has been “incredible”, he adds. “People have been helped to move on with their lives and go back into employment because their confidence has grown.

“Some of the first people who came to us are now with us as volunteers and helping others.

“We’re giving people a reason to come out and get involved in their community,” he adds.

“They enjoy the peace and quiet and the chance to lose themselves in the act of growing something.”