LUCY REYNOLDS

I lived in London for two years. The world pressed in on me: buildings, everywhere I looked. Even where the skyline opened up over the Thames, there was minimal respite from the visual assault, as buildings crowded the banks. I longed to return to Scotland. Not for an escape to the hills, but because our Scottish cities are blessed with escapes within their very fabric. While Londoners swelter in a flat green square of a park, hemmed in by buildings, in Edinburgh I could walk from my door through the wooded Hermitage of Braid and up on to Blackford Hill. We could admire the city's rooftops from Calton Hill or Arthur's Seat. Staying with a friend in the west end of Glasgow, walking down Queen Margaret Drive I would stop on the bridge, feast my eyes on the view and remind her how lucky she was to have this slice of nature on her doorstep, in the heart of the city.

Five years ago I succeeded in moving to Glasgow myself. When all the pressures of daily life are bearing in on me, stopping on that bridge and gazing down on the river restores my equanimity.

Now, plans for development by the Kelvin have forced me to consider more deeply the value that panorama holds for me and countless others. Can the therapeutic effect of such views and urban escapes be quantified and influence planning decisions?

BBC Scotland has had its headquarters by the Kelvin since 1935, and over the years has steadily added to a rather Heath Robinson sprawl of buildings along the river bank. These have the attraction of being, for the most part, neutral in colour, and barely protrude above the treeline, but they can hardly be described as beautiful. Their virtue is in not drawing the eye away from the natural beauty surrounding them. Now that the BBC has new premises by the Clyde, sensitive redevelopment of the old site has the potential to improve the view - or to destroy it. When Applecross, the developer of the site, held an exhibition of its proposals, I marched through a wet December evening to see what it planned.

To say I was disappointed is an understatement. The word eyesore is overused, but it perfectly describes my feelings about the proposal. A huge box of flats, entirely faced in glass, towering above the treeline. As I crossed the bridge on my way home, I imagined this monstrosity. Surely it couldn't get planning permission?

In January, I attended a national seminar on planning and health, held in Glasgow's City Chambers, where the evidence that planning decisions can affect health, well-being and quality of life was discussed. A Planning and Health Task Group in the UK Environmental Planning and Protection Network concluded that planners can promote well-being through "the provision of those things which have a positive impact on human health - eg, good-quality open space and nature", but "planning practice in the UK has not yet discovered how to deal with health issues, and both the planning and health sectors are going through a learning process".

Scottish planning legislation is reflected in city plans and in policies about conservation areas and "corridors of wildlife and or landscape importance". Reading such quotes as "applications for development must demonstrate that they enhance the existing situation in respect of wildlife, landscape character and visual amenity", "materials should be appropriate to the locality" and "significant views into and out of conservation areas should be safeguarded", should I be reassured? The proposals for this development in Glasgow (even with the minor changes made between the December exhibition and the recently-submitted planning application), in my view, so clearly contravene all the guidelines that it would seem there can be no prospect of them securing planning permission. Yet the cynic in me fears that, while maximising the number of flats in the proposal will result in a welcome boost in council tax revenue, footering about with environmental impact assessments and discussing something as unquantifiable as a view is time consuming, and time is money.

What can we do to ensure that the spirit of our planning policy is not lost in its implementation? In individual, local cases, we can let our councils know how we feel. Write. Quote the legislation.

Although experts may correct me, my amateur studies so far suggest it is the implementation, rather than the wording, of the policy that needs attention. It seems to me that systems of national audit should be put in place to ensure that councils and developers do not drive a steamroller through what is already enshrined in current legislation. The forthcoming elections provide us with an opportunity to make it clear to those seeking to represent us that this is no longer acceptable. My haven of tranquillity is threatened now. Yours might be next.