The trees were quiet overhead as Henry stepped over the fallen log. New England was rarely silent out here; the woods were living, seething with activity in a more eager way than the encroaching cities. Little birds jabbered from the dense bushes of red, orange and yellow; raccoons and squirrels rummaged through the leaves that had already fallen for the leftover scraps of the summer.

He’d been raised in cities his whole life, the expanding noise and the quickening pace of life that outmatched anything his parents could have imagined. He became increasingly dissatisfied with people staying inside, hiding from their neighbors and community, relying on imported goods and entertainment to get them through their lives. Disenchanted, he began to look to the mountains for satisfaction and peace. As he walked through the quiet forest, he began to piece together words in his head:

“I went to the woods because I wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach, and not, when I came to die, discover that I had not lived. I did not wish to live what was not life, living is so dar; nor did I wish to practise resignation, unless it was quite necessary. I wanted to live deep and suck out all the marrow of life, to live so sturdily and Spartan-like as to put to rout all that was not life, to cut a broad swatch and shave close, to drive life into a corner, and reduce it to its lowest terms.”

Pleased with the thought, he determined to put it down into a monograph that he began to envision as he topped the crest and looked down onto Walden Pond.

Henry David Thoreau was not the first, nor the last, to seek solace in the woods. However, the physical effect that trees and flowers have on us has been little discussed or explored.

A new study published in the Proceedings of the National Academy of Sciences from researchers at Stanford University found that when people walked in nature trails for 90 minutes, they showed decreased activity in the areas of the brain linked to stress and depression. One group walked in nature, the other walked along a four-lane highway. While the two groups had little physical difference, their brains showed significantly varied reactions: the group in the woods showed decreased activity in the subgenual prefrontal cortex, which is related to rumination.

The authors connect this observation to the recorded higher incidences of stress and depression disorders in cities, where people have less opportunity to engage with nature in an immersive way. While this isn’t a definitive finding, it makes sense as a potential aid for those with depression. It does line up with the results of a previous study, published in June, that suggests that mental health in urban areas could improve if urban planners increased access to natural spaces.

Some cities are handling this challenge well. Chicago is engaged in a project called the Chicago Wilderness project that seeks to link its parks together so residents can travel in nature from neighborhood to neighborhood, fulfilling the vision of 19th-century urban planner Frederick Law Olmsted. Montgomery County, Maryland, has been constructing a river valley nature preserve since the 1940s. Portland, Oregon, Minneapolis, Minnesota, Orlando, Florida, and Bellevue, Washington, are all working on more naturalistic park infrastructure as well.

The presence of these parks is a simple way to encourage exercise and potentially prevent some widespread mental conditions. Rekindling a love of nature in the mass populace might also help with deurbanization, an increasing problem in a world where 70 percent of the world’s population lives in an urban area. This creates a drain on resources and an unnecessary environmental snarl, when people living closer to the land might improve environmental conditions.

And as Wiliiam Shakespeare said once, it might increase our joy:

“And this, our life, exempt from public haunt, finds tongue in trees, books in running brooks, and joy in everything.”