Designing a garden for people who are unable to walk, move or, in some cases, breathe unaided takes some thinking about. Patients at the Duke of Cornwall Spinal Treatment Centre in Salisbury used to face months confined indoors during their recovery, undergoing physiotherapy and repetitive exercises. But a newly-opened garden carved from a blank patch of grass by garden designer Cleve West provides an outdoor space for patients that transcends their physical impairment and provides a respite for family and friends.
The garden was the brainchild of teenager Horatio Chapple, who volunteered at the centre. His research showed patients asking for a beautiful escape, away from the clinical environment, to spend time with family and friends. Horatio never saw his vision materialise: he was killed by a polar bear in 2011, aged 17, while on an adventure holiday on a remote island in the Arctic Circle. The garden, which cost £300,000, was created in Horatio’s memory through charitable donations and fundraising by his parents and friends.
There are curved borders filled with textured, cheerful planting. Seats are surrounded by a froth of erigeron daisies, scented herbs and stands of Verbena bonariensis, full of butterflies. Multi-stem birch trees form tall, fluid pillars. A water feature runs the length of a metal arch that will one day soon be covered in trained apple trees and trailing wisteria. “It is about creating a positive mental space,” West says. “The view is brought into the garden and the repetition of the lines echoes the landscape beyond. The apples have significance, too, as they were a favourite of Horatio’s.”
Central to the design are three representations of spines. At the far side is a long, flowing stone wall in the shape of a healthy spine; its sweeping curves are topped with smooth stones, so it doubles as a seat. To reach it, one crosses the garden via a path that cuts through two other undulating but incomplete “spines”. Their construction is similar to the healthy one, but uncapped and surrounded by foliage, they are rougher. In a situation where patients and their families have to come to terms with what has happened, the journey to healing is a powerful metaphor.
West, who has won best in show at the Chelsea Flower Show for two years running, went to great lengths to understand how patients would experience the garden, by being wheeled around the space in a wheelchair and flat on his back on a hospital bed. The wide, smooth paths made of resin-bonded gravel provide a bump-free passage for patients. David Joliffe arrived at the unit after a paragliding accident. “I went outside for the garden opening – it was the first time in 14 weeks. It was wonderful, feeling the wind on my face, despite being still in bed,” he says.
Intended as an antidote to institution, the design is anything but utilitarian; while there are areas that can be used for therapy, the smooth curves and soft planting would grace any garden. It caters for all tastes, with raised beds and a potting area that would not look out of place in an urban garden, while rough walls and relaxed planting invoke something closer to a country wilderness.
Mike Payne, a 32-year-old electronic engineer, arrives in the greenhouse under his own steam. On a night out last summer, he fell from a bridge, breaking every rib, puncturing a lung and damaging his back so badly that he will never walk again. But he seems extraordinarily cheerful. “I came out last night and it is just so quiet,” he says. “I’m looking forward to reading my book here – before, I would sit in the doorway nearest the car park. But when you have been stuck inside on bed rest for six weeks and can’t even look out of the window, and then you can go anywhere outside… it was the best thing ever!”
The garden offers sensory stimulation and invites interaction – downy leaves of lambs’ ears (Stachys byzantina) and feathery fennel beg to be touched; dense, solid blocks of box anchor the waving grasses in a pleasing contrast of form and colour. Scented herbs, veg and alpine strawberries in raised beds demand to be tasted. There is the sound of moving water, wind in the trees and insects feasting on the nectar-rich planting.
Ian Nixon has been at the hospital for four months. “Mental stimulation makes a world of difference,” he says. “I have only been out twice, and this place will make a big difference because it’s so accessible. I just like being outdoors. It is a freedom that you take for granted when you are able-bodied, but in hospital all you can do is look out of the window.”
SENSORY PLANTS
Touch Common fennel (Foeniculum vulgare); lambs’ ears (Stachys byzantina); giant feather grass (Stipa gigantea); Sedum spectabile ‘José Aubergine’; stars of Persia (Allium christophii).
Sight Eryngium giganteum ‘Silver Ghost’; buckler fern (Dryopteris erythrosora); box (buxus); coneflower (Rudbeckia occidentalis ‘Green Wizard’); black birch (Betula nigra); ornamental onion (Allium schubertii).
Scent Thyme (Thymus vulgaris ‘Compactus’); sweet box (Sarcococca confusa); oregano (Origanum laevigatum ‘Herrenhausen’); rosemary (Rosmarinus officinalis).
Taste Alpine strawberry (Fragaria vesca); apples ‘Rosemary Russet’ and ‘Laxton’s Superb’; vegetables including pak choi and ‘Lollo Rosso’ lettuce.
• For more information, visit the Southern Spinal Injuries Trust.
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