Silence is a gift. We’ve seldom thought of silence in our world of endless electronic noise. Watch people when they are out, perpetually checking email. Watch people anywhere, and their electronic ball and chain is constantly attached, constantly consulted. Even nowadays when dining out is a controlled effort of social distancing, people talk not to each other but stare into the glow of their devices. No one discusses anything these days without “Look at this!” on Facebook or Google. No one explains anything anymore, because no one discusses.

Walking in a forest, alone, is special. Walking along a long stretch of road is relaxing. For a while, no one can reach us. Is that scary? Not so. We’ve made our world so scary through endless “Breaking News”, or warnings, or alerts, or danger advisories that many think the world is much different now than before. Now, we can know of kidnappings in obscure towns thousands of miles away. Before, bad things happened, but we only really knew about local events. We’ve become obsessed with fear, and this is encouraged. Encouraged, because fear sells. We are victims of cynical political and news cycles which play on our fears. If I’m a politician, making an outrageous comment gets you to notice me. If I’m an editor, I want you to click my news site because clicks equal money. If I can scare you enough about anything, maybe you’ll buy my stuff. I’ve noticed recently there are more ads for funeral services than before. “We cover costs the government won’t!” they offer. Death hovers in the background, no matter how much we try to whistle past the cemetery.

And if we aren’t scared enough, there are lies to keep us fearful. Oh, the lies are often well wrought. They seem logical, presented in professionally made video clips, or at formal presentations. Then they are spread around, without checking their truth or falsehood. Or lies can be spread by sending them and cynically asking, “What do you think of this?” as if that doesn’t spread lies, too.

Walk away. Turn off the phone. Watch and listen. You may see natural events you’ve passed by thousands of times and never seen. Why are the birds chirping the way they do? Did you notice the various kinds of birds all along your route? And if you are careful, and look intently, you see little mammals which were always there, even when your mind was a thousand miles away, worrying about something you saw online. Stop at the creek. Listen. Hear the water dropping off blocks of stone, swishing out to catch a muskrat diving into it. Was that a turtle? Watch, and listen. What a wonderful world is out there.

 — John William Davis is a retired U.S. Army counterintelligence officer, civil servant and linguist. He was commissioned from Washington University in St. Louis in 1975. He entered counterintelligence and served some 37 years. A linguist, Mr. Davis learned foreign languages in each country in which he served. His published works include “Rainy Street Stories: Reflections on Secret Wars, Terrorism and Espionage” and “Around the Corner: Reflections on American Wars, Violence, Terrorism and Hope.”