Covid-19 has ruined so many lives, as thousands of our fellow Scots mourn the loss of precious members of their families. Life for all those with the heart-wrenching task of caring for the sick and dying will inevitably be terribly scarred. It will never be the same again for our key workers and, indeed, for all of us.

But as a nation we must try to honour these victims by rebuilding our lives and creating a Scotland where we care for each other and the world we live in.

The healing process will take time and the greater the injury, the more sympathy and understanding will be needed. That’s why, as part of this process, I fully support The Herald’s campaign for a memorial garden for victims.

Many years ago, I came very close to death during a car accident and owe my life to the dedicated skill and care of doctors and nurses at Glasgow’s Southern General.

During my long recovery, I came to value the wonderful, healing power of my garden. So I believe distraught relatives will also draw strength from the support of us all in this tranquil garden.

A garden calms and soothes you as you absorb its diversity and beauty: the colourfully elegant cornus stems, smooth papery birch bark or roughly robust trunk of an ancient oak. Enjoy seeing leaves of every shape, shade and texture and absorb the compelling beauty of a fragrant rose.

Plants don’t merely look attractive, scent can be intoxicating and highly evocative. Soak up the sweet honey fragrance of a climbing clematis, pictured, as it scales a wall or nimbly threads its way through the branches of a tree. The power of scent ensnares us just as it lures pollinators. Pine needles can remind you of a particular holiday, possibly with a relative. And honeysuckle can evoke fond memories of a granny’s home you visited many years before.

A living, vibrant garden captivates and enthrals you. Wherever you look, creatures of every kind are busily plying their trade. Bees and butterflies, moths and damsel flies flit busily around, intent on their tasks.

And the air teems with birds of every kind proclaiming their inalienable territorial rights. I confess to preferring the blackbird’s often elaborately melodious song to the coarse raucous cry of the jackdaws.

This is no two-dimensional Garden of Eden. A garden is life in microcosm, both beautiful and ugly. And that’s why it’s such a powerful healer. Open your mind to your surroundings and you’ll be imbued with this strong life force and draw comfort and strength from it.

Every creature is single-mindedly driven by the need to feed and procreate. Birth, life, death and decay are all around and the complex threads holding it together are a thing of wonder.

Slugs and snails are recyclers of decaying and dead vegetation and have even been known to spread their favours a little more widely than that. The larvae of beautiful butterflies reach adulthood by disfiguring your favourite ornamentals

Inevitably, you’re drawn to ask what makes the garden tick. How does pollination work? One question leads to another. Why are strawberries red? Why do leaves change colour? What is the life cycle of a peacock butterfly? Once again, a garden takes you out of yourself.

A garden has all year round interest, from the emergence of the first snowdrops, to spring blossom, spell-binding roses, autumn leaves and berries, and the subdued shades and textures of winter. By engaging with the natural cycle of life in a garden, from the transient charm of a day lily to an ancient tree that could live for centuries, you emerge feeling invigorated and refreshed.

Can you help create our garden? Send an email to memorialgarden@theherald.co.uk

Plant of the week

Rose Guinée has the darkest crimson, double blooms with a heady, spicy scent. Stunning grown against a white wall, Guinée reaches up to 4m.