The first thing I noticed when I entered my soon-to-be-roommate’s apartment were all of the plants - on the coffee table, in the corners, on the fire escape.

I fell in love with the space instantly. And ever since I shared that apartment with extraordinary abstract painter Madeline Mikolon back in college, I've made it a point to always have plants on my windowsills. I enjoy them so much that now when my husband and I celebrate special occasions, the only thing I ask for is a new houseplant.

"Shifting Landscape" by Madeline Mikolon (@madelinemikolon)

Not long ago I worked as an office manager for a landscape architecture firm. The office (which was itself filled with different plants) was conveniently located right by Manhattan’s plant district, and I often used parts of my lunch breaks just to walk through the isles of the flower shops and plant stores, inhaling the scent of dirt and water and leaves. My time working for that firm deeply enhanced my appreciation and fascination with the transformative power of greenery. I also learned just how much money people were willing to spend to have a tree hoisted up to their Manhattan penthouse. Whenever I'd walk through one of our firm's remarkably beautiful projects I was filled with a strange mixture of awe, envy and sympathy. The latter emotion was due in part because I knew our clients paid great money for a garden that most of them would never learn the pleasure of nurturing.

Study after study demonstrate nature's profound ability to elevate our mood. Some even suggest that having a window by your bed or having access to a hospital garden can speed up our recovery from sickness or surgery. Living in a concrete jungle, without a back yard or many opportunities to marvel at a landscape, it can be difficult to get a good visual dose of greens. But just inhaling the scent of soil or repotting the tiniest succulent or bulb gives me an immense sense of peace and joy.