Rooted in Nature: The Biophilia Hypothesis

It all started with Zahra Kegode’s ’27 self-proclaimed nature phase.

In the winter of 2025, she was leaning into her connection with nature and how spending time in it made her feel better. She hatched a plan to gather a group of friends and start their weekday with a sunrise hike to the Top of the World, the height of land on our campus trail system.

Any alumni or current student can understand the significance of what they were seeking simply by the lengths they went to cram this experience into a typically overbooked weekday at school.

Zahra, along with friends and fellow naturephiles Vivienne Maleska ’26, Marlena Maleska ’26, and Stella Regan ’26, rose before dawn and left their dorms on an early morning mission. They stopped in Pichette dorm to grab Outing Club snowshoes and made their way to the trails in the dark. Still half asleep, they trudged up the steep incline alongside the Outdoor Chapel with the silence of the predawn forest punctuated by the squeak of snowshoes, and perhaps twinges of regret that they were not still sleeping in a warm bed.

Once atop the incline, they settled into the snow at the top of the old ski hill and enjoyed each other’s presence, more often in silence than not, as the sun rose.

Getting outside and exploring our Nature Era through the biophilia hypothesis.

In a conversation I had with these early-morning adventurers, they reported their mood being elevated for the rest of the day, despite the early morning alarm. I can picture all of them carrying the joy of this shared experience behind a smile through classes and into study hall.

One element of why they felt happier after a morning outdoors could be explained by the biophilia hypothesis.

This idea, popularized by famed Harvard entomologist E.O. Wilson, tries to explain the science behind why we feel better after experiencing moments in nature. The hypothesis hinges on the understanding of human evolutionary history. For roughly 95% of human history, our species has lived as hunter-gatherers, relying more on the abundance and health of natural ecosystems than human-shaped landscapes to sustain us. As our species evolved during this time, our emotions evolved to support our use of and interactions with nature, giving us a competitive advantage.

Since the Agricultural Revolution, the evolution of human culture and society has outpaced the evolution of human emotions and our ingrained connection to nature.

When our brain isn’t receiving the stimulus from nature that we are in the right place, at the right time, we become anxious, depressed, or feel lost. Our brain communicates to us using chemical signals that can affect how we feel and, through that, our long-term mental and physical health. It’s a similar phenomenon to the stress we feel from a more heavily studied and understood evolutionary emotional holdover—our fight-or-flight response.

The gap between the evolution of our emotions and that of daily life has never been greater. Wilson sums up the current imbalance by saying, “The real problem of humanity is the following: we have paleolithic emotions, medieval institutions, and godlike technology.”

A host of studies have tried to prove this scientifically. One study found significantly lower stress hormones in children who had recess on natural surfaces instead of artificial ones. Another found better birth outcomes for women who lived on streets that were tree-lined than those who did not. Much of the scientific research on this has come from the world of biophilic design—the idea of blending natural stimuli into our necessarily human landscapes with the intention of achieving better mental health and performance outcomes.

Studies have shown that simply having windows with views of nature can help students cope with academic stress in the moment and have greater attention restoration.

Many of these studies highlight just how little nature we need to bring back into our lives to start regaining balance and the physical and mental health benefits that come with it. Luckily for those at Holderness, a nature-connected experience is the norm, and an immersive experience is easily achievable. There is a beauty in having to walk outside from building to building all day long, from marveling at the towering pines along the campus paths, to enjoying the sunset over Stinson Mountain—not to mention the health benefits. A day in the life of a Holderness student or adult is punctuated by moments of awe and a connection to nature by necessity.

Even when we go indoors, we benefit from intentional biophilic design elements such as the siding and windows of the Davis Center, designed to bring the outdoors in. And for those exploring their own Nature Era, and wanting a little bit more of it, exploration is just a few steps off the beaten path.

Connecting with Nature on Campus

NORTH: Top of the World

The height of land for our trail network hosts a craggy summit with a unique red oak – pine rocky ridge forest community of stunted and sparse oak trees and a carpet of mosses. Nearby is the Outdoor Chapel and old ski hill, providing views to the east and west.

EAST: Upper Turf Trails

Behind the upper turf field, a small brook has cut a little valley into the plain our campus sits on. Wandering down an old farm road and along the banks of the brook, one is likely to encounter deer or the resident beavers that have turned the far end of the brook into a beautiful meadow. In the shallow waters, if you look long enough, you can see native brook trout and sculpin darting around. If you are lucky, you may even see the moose that wanders out of these woods onto our upper fields from time to time.

SOUTH: South Side Trails

A trail network behind the Southside dorms, built by students on service days over the last six years, takes you past a pond, along a brook, and back up to the old Sargeant lot through a hemlock grove. Along the way, you pass through a silver maple floodplain and a northern hardwood forest. There’s a waterfall to appreciate in spring, and a cutaway bank where you can see the annual deposits of sediment from when this area was at the bottom of Glacial Lake Merrimack during the late Pleistocene epoch.

WEST: Lower Fields, Pemigewasset River access

Along the margins of the lower athletic fields is a network of current dirt roads and old abandoned roads that create a quick loop. Along this loop, you’re brought to the banks of the Pemi where you can see the process of river morphology playing out. You’ll pass an old homestead marked only by a cellar hole and dated cornerstone, and likely see deer trotting along the treeline or birds picking away at the ample black cherries.

Originally published in the Spring 2026 issue of Basecamp. Read the article on Issuu below. Illustration by Davide Bonazzi.