Of Soil and Sanctuary: Finding Home at Greenfields
14 Aug 2025
When Diana Yates, the green fingers behind @growing_greenfields, made the move home from South Africa back to the wilds of southern Scotland, all was not plain sailing. It wasn’t just the exchange of landscapes; it was the embrace of a whole new way of life too, as Diana hung up her corporate hat – she’d spent a decade in a fast-paced supply chain role – in favour of a slower, homegrown business crafting bespoke curtains and cushions.
‘The transition back to a slower pace of life was a tough one,’ she remembers. ‘I was so used to the convenience of city living, and everything being available at my fingertips. It was a full year of living in the countryside before I fully relaxed into it and found a new rhythm, mainly led by the seasons and the garden I came to love.’
And yet it was the sight of the house, not the garden, that exerted the first tug on Diana’s heartstrings, allowing her to truly envisage the possibility of a new way of life. Glimpses of her 18th-century former manse, which sits within two acres of land, are woven enchantingly through the horticultural diaries that she shares with her followers, but these days it plays second fiddle to the garden, which thrums with verdant, ever-evolving life. And yet it was the nucleus from which everything else fatefully unfolded.
‘At first I just caught a peek of a pretty white house through the yews from the road that drew me in to look further,’ she recalls. ‘Then, as we began to look around, it ticked every box I could think of on my ‘dream home’ – plus there was a whole lot of scope to put our stamp on the place.’ Above all, though, it was the ineffable feeling of warmth that clinched it. ‘From the moment I stepped through the door, the house seemed to welcome me in,’ she says. ‘I knew immediately that we had found our home. The house is 245 years old and conservation listed, which does come with its challenges at times – like single-pane sash windows, which aren’t the best in a Scottish winter. But with the challenges came stunning garden views to the hills beyond, and a third floor ripe for renovation one day.’
That was back in 2017, and the pretty white house has since become her beloved family home, the view her constant muse. For in its soil, Diana has unearthed not only an idyllic abundance, but a fresh sense of purpose and a profound tether to the present moment. Through planting, nurturing, and harvesting, she has not only cultivated the two acres she had once imagined that someone else might tend, but also restored her own sense of equilibrium. And like all the best things in life, its goodness has rippled outward – she has grown not only a garden, but a community, many of whom now look to their own patch of earth, however small, with renewed eyes. How profound has the effect of her garden been on her?
‘How long do I have?’ she laughs. ‘My garden, and becoming a gardener, has changed my life immeasurably over the last eight years, picking me up during the lowest times, always pulling me forward to the next job, milestone or harvest, yet keeping me present in the current season. Gardening has helped me through grief, redundancy, and the pandemic, and continues to be a safe haven through the continual ups and downs of life.’
And while the earth has been bountiful in its many gifts, Diana has taken great care to give back – of her time, her knowledge, and her passion. The latest manifestation of that energy is a kitchen garden makeover, which has transformed not only the way she grows, but how she feeds her family.
‘It began with a sketch and a desire to be deeply immersed within the garden – even when not gardening,’ she explains. ‘We had raised beds before, but we couldn’t sit amongst them and enjoy the space. This time, I envisioned somewhere I could work, eat, entertain, and rest. At the same time, productivity was high on the priority list.’
The result is an enchanting marriage of form and function: a mix of raised beds, sacks and containers, threaded with arches and panels for vertical growing, all cleverly designed to maximise space without compromising on beauty.
‘My husband Andrew and I brought the dream to life over the winter months. We levelled the space, creating a tiered effect,’ she says. ‘The lower tier would offer a prettier aesthetic, with places to sit amongst the flowers and vegetables. The upper tier, while still lovely, is focused on productivity, with nearly four-metre-long beds. I still hope to add a small water feature, as I love the relaxed feeling I get from running water. And I need to make some new cushions for the daybed.’
It has proven the perfect setting for a pair of treasured new additions: Rowen & Wren’s Ludlow Garden Table and Chairs which sit so harmoniously within the space that one might imagine they’d been designed especially for it.
‘The table and chairs have been a truly wonderful finishing touch and are used multiple times daily,’ she enthuses. ‘I’m enjoying making lunchtimes feel special by setting the table, snipping a few branches of whatever is blooming to use as a centrepiece – even if we’re just having a sandwich and a cup of tea.’
Gathering at the table – whether for a hurried weekday lunch or a slower supper at the golden hour under flickering candlelight – feels, Diana says, like the most profound reward for her labours. Her summer table is, in turn, shaped by the simple, seasonal pleasures of the garden.
‘A charcuterie board with homemade tapenade, sun-blushed tomatoes, and all the cheese, or a butternut, prosciutto and pine nut salad alongside something from the BBQ would be on the menu,’ she says. ‘My girls are home from university for the summer, so I want to soak up every moment with them – and with my husband too.’
Her beautiful garden is the subject of and inspiration for her debut book, Growing at Greenfields – a gentle, hopeful memoir of soil and seasons that has resonated deeply with her readers. ‘I hope it shows that you can learn new skills at any age,’ she reflects, ‘and that gardening truly is for everyone.’ Nothing moves her more than receiving messages from readers who have felt inspired to begin growing – often while navigating hardship of their own. Further evidence if ever it were needed, that the garden has a way of offering solace and bringing not only plants but people back to life.
It is, meanwhile, in the smallest rituals that she finds her centre: a morning cup of tea while walking the garden, noting what has unfurled overnight; the slow accumulation of change that only the keenest eyes observe. ‘Just taking the time to notice is immensely therapeutic,’ she says. It’s a form of attentiveness that suffuses everything she touches, from a table laid for lunch to the way she places a plant label in the soil.
And finally, at the close of a long day, when the sun spills low across the grass and candles flicker on the garden table, Diana feels it most keenly: not just peace, but a deep, resounding gratitude. For the garden she has made. For the time to grow. And, perhaps most of all. for the chance to share it all with the people she loves.
Interview by Nancy Alsop.
