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There's nothing like getting your hands dirty; in fact, John O'Neill swears by it. It's what brings him to the Royal Botanic Gardens every Thursday to muck about with mulch and play with plants.

As a volunteer, O'Neill spends six or seven hours a week carting barrows of compost, preparing for weekly plant sales, writing up labels, and most importantly, propagating. The mysterious process of creating a new plant, whether from cuttings or seeds, by layering or encouraging water roots, is what he loves.

But working from home in front of a computer didn't afford much social interaction or physical activity - the latter a factor that led him to the gardens.

Another came from his wife, Petra, who some years ago created a patch of rainforest when their twin daughters, Nicky and Lauren, were at primary school. The rainforest still thrives at Glenmore Road Public School.

The Botanic Gardens had always attracted O'Neill, who used to walk in the grounds in his lunch hour when he worked at the Tax Office. So when the opportunity arose to join the Thursday group, he jumped at it.

He adapted quickly to the level of professionalism required - strict hygiene procedures, for example, are vital to prevent the transmission of plant diseases, particularly into the propagation area and the glasshouse. He has also had to get used to a new vocabulary.

This sense of wonder is evident on a tour of the growing friends nursery. O'Neill can find something of note in every plant he touches. Like the Hoya kerrii , a slow-growing climber with an incredibly thick, waxy and perfectly heart-shaped leaf. "Look at it," he says, "it's just a marketing dream." But the marketers have beaten him to it - it's already commonly known as the Valentine hoya.

O'Neill's Thursday companions are a diverse group from various walks of life - mother of two, retired school teacher, former consultant, orchid breeder. Some have downsized from large gardens to small and want a bit more earth to play with. Others have downsized from full-time to part-time work and so have more hours to offer. Most have been there for seven or eight years, and as they sit in the gardens during a morning coffee break, the sun filtering through the overhead trees, camellia buds just starting to open, they agree there aren't too many better places to volunteer.

The fact that the drop-out rate is so small would seem to back up their argument.

Several volunteer groups work on behalf of the gardens. As well as the growing friends, there are those who do the catering at events, others who front the information booth, odd jobs volunteers, public speakers and even watering volunteers. Last year the gardens had 250 registered active volunteers who combined to do more than 22,000 hours of work.

The growing friends make a significant financial contribution. Last year, plant sales from their propagation efforts raised $70,000. All of this goes back into the gardens for various projects.

Of course, being part of the propagating team means also getting first pick of some of the more unusual species being grown. A glance through some of the plants not quite ready for sale reveals quite a number with "Reserved for J.O'Neill" labels on them. O'Neill candidly admits that being a plant-lover working in the gardens is rather like having an alcoholic in charge of a pub.

And with each new pot he carries home, the challenge of finding somewhere to put it in his pocket-sized Paddington backyard increases. Already it is a forest of palm trees, orchids and dozens of ex-gardens specimens. There are rows of pots on both front and back balconies, and the twins, who have started a herb garden, have been consigned to tubs perched on the roof of the outdoor dunny. It might look inaccessible, but they're happy to climb over the balcony railing on the first floor to pick their parsley, chillies or cress, O'Neill says.

Gazing across the street, he says: "Look at those plane trees. It attracts your eye, doesn't it? And if you don't have that, if you're at a workstation that has no access to look at nature … well, that's why people go mad.

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