I have spent the better part of my week in class for four hours a day speaking French. Learning from a native speaker who is aware of the challenges that English speakers of French encounter has been a godsend. Steve on the other hand, has spent his time investigating the gardens of nearby villages. Not one to let a language barrier stop his quest for peace and solitude in nature, he stopped in at the local office of tourism and picked up a brochure of the various gardens within a forty-five-minute radius.

I have been traveling through France, making my way to the tiny town of Sancerre in the Loire Valley. Here, we will stay a few weeks so that I can study French and mingle with the locals.

For someone who rarely comes down from his mountaintop cabin in the backwoods of Western North Carolina, writer David Joy will put aside his eternal quest for solitude and silence for one thing only — France. 

When terrorism strikes like it did this weekend in Paris, the first reaction to the horror is shock from the utter senselessness of intentional violence against innocent people. Most of us don’t understand how anyone could do something so innately evil.

But then, as the dozens of news reports and politicizing of the tragedy wash over me, I begin to worry. Not about further terrorist attacks — which we all know are coming and unfortunately are part of the world in which we live — but for the coming epidemic of ignorance, grandstanding and bellicose chest thumping.