As nature lovers, we get a powerful sense of euphoria from the outdoors in general, and birds in particular. But it’s hard explaining this to less bucolic-minded friends and family. They’ve dismissed my experiences (and perhaps yours) many times as the imagination of a tree-hugger run amok.

But science is on our side.

Studies at home and abroad are now affirming what we’ve known for so long: that nature produces quantifiable benefits for both body and mind. Florence William’s groundbreaking (and eminently readable) 2017 book, “The Nature Fix” offers a wonderfully simple hypothesis for why this is so. William’s posits that human physiology has become enmeshed in a symbiotic dance with nature across our species’ approximate 1.5-million-year history. (The frustrations of packaging ourselves into cars, cubicles and Starbuck’s lines is, by this line of thinking, new and dangerously uncharted territory.) By venturing outdoors, we tap into our evolutionary heritage, rekindling physical, mental and even spiritual benefits that past eons have literally hardwired into us.

And the proof is astounding. A study from London’s Kings College reveals that many bird songs (not yours, Crow) lower metal fatigue, blood pressure and stress. A study published by Canada’s Environmental Design Research Association takes this a step further. It discovered that bird songs within certain levels of sound, harmonics, frequency and complexity actually restore healthy cognitive functioning in brains battered by the modern world.

And it’s not just adults that benefit from nature-infused lives. A study printed by the U.S. National Academy of Sciences proved urban kids that romped in green spaces just 230 yards square from birth to age 10 experienced 55% fewer mental disorders as adults. Here’s the kicker: this was after adjusting for factors such as household income, age, race and familiar histories of mental illness.

These are just three poignant examples. The body of work on the good juju that comes from birdwatching and its natural setting is growing with a velocity born of both extreme public interest and importance.

“Why are you going outside?”

So, if you hear someone ask that the next time you grab your bins and head for the door, the only response is:

“Why aren’t you?”