Garden Enigma

by   March 6, 2026 with No Comments

By Roger Barbee

Garden Enigma

Early evening and suddenly every bird at or near one of the three bird feeders in our back garden disappears. No bird song. Only the silent flutter of wings as the quiet before the storm passes, and the storm settles on a limb of a dogwood tree.

The resident Cooper’s Hawk perches, facing the house. Its roan-tinted chest plumage reflects late sunlight as the eyes study every piece of the small garden. Its flat crown reminds me, in a silly way, of the flat-top hair style some boys paraded during my youth. But this flat top half crowns two dark, piercing eyes that  search for a meal in our garden, the one where we feed its potential prey for our pleasure, not for its food.

The head moves from side to side and soon the body of death turns and faces the wider, back expanse of garden, perhaps hoping to find food in the larger area. But, when none presents itself, the grey-shoulder hungry one drops to the ground and peers into the thick, green foliage of the gardenia. One hop of grey death flushes a male cardinal that flies low to the ground before escaping to the safety of the rhododendron.

Unruffled, the Cooper’s Hawk takes dominion over our side garden and Doug’s large front yard by perching on the white fence dividing our properties. Unruffled, but obviously hungry, it sits there for some moments before gliding away to expand its search. Within moments of its departure, a fat squirrel appears on the ground below one of the dogwood trees, and birds return to the feeders.

The small, back garden returns to another cycle, one that is an enigma of sorts since we humans attract the birds and squirrels for our pleasure by feeding them, not to provide for the fearsome but beautiful Cooper’s Hawk.

Decent Underpants

by   March 4, 2026 with No Comments

By Lynna Clark

I take great pride in keeping my home neat. It’s not always clean, but it is tidy. There’s a bright tablecloth on our little kitchen table, with a fruit bowl or flowers. Dirty dishes are placed in the portable dishwasher as soon as they’re used. David and I are the only ones here and the house is so tiny that it only takes a minute to make it neat.

However, last Monday we finished a long day and crashed. The tablecloth was dirty so I tossed it on the floor toward the laundry room. The dishwasher was full and in front of the kitchen sink hooked up to run. David wasn’t feeling well so he grabbed an old sheet and quilt then hit the recliner sofa. The week before, he moved to a new office and had pulled books off our shelves, sorting stuff in piles on the floor. Our house was unusually trashed.

Books were not the only thing to hit the floor that night. About 2am, he got so violently ill that his blood pressure bottomed out. I found him passed out on the bathroom floor and had to call 911.

As I jerked on clothes, described his symptoms to the dispatcher, and prayed my sweetheart wouldn’t die, I ran to turn on the porch light and open the side door. Lickety-split my little upside down house was filled with firemen and paramedics who do not know what a respectable housekeeper I am. Wouldn’t you know it! The one time…

This is where the wise person would tell you that none of that matters now that I know David is okay.

While that is very true…

The next day I found myself cleaning the house top to bottom, rearranging the bookshelf, spreading out a clean table cloth, washing all the linens, disinfecting the floors, and thinking of a reason to invite the emergency guys back for a do-over.

Perhaps if I bake a cake to thank them for their great efficiency and kindness…

This time the 911 call would sound like this:

“911. What’s your emergency?”

“Oh… no emergency. Is the same crew working that worked Monday night?”

“Yes ma’am. Is this the lady with the messy house?”

“They TOLD you that?”

“Yes ma’am. They were appalled. Apparently there was a pink striped sheet on a red sofa. Sounds hideous!”

“Could you please send them back? I have cake!”

“No ma’am. They said if you ever called again to tell you they would not return to such a pigsty.”

“But… but I have cake.”

“No cake in the world would entice them back. They also told us about your bedhead. Said you looked like a woman in a bad wig wearing clothes with yesterday’s coffee stains.”

“Sigh… it’s true. It was bad. Sorry I called…um… have a good night.”

“You too ma’am… because they are not coming back.”

Mama always said to wear decent underpants in case there’s an emergency.

You know… they did not even check our underpants!

Thank the good Lord.

Time With a Friend

by   March 1, 2026 with No Comments

By Ashlie Miller

Beautiful routines have been developing in my home with my best friend. We occasionally meet on the front porch together, often with our books in hand, to read separately or to observe the environment. We may or may not interrupt each other with conversation, but mostly, we end up in the same place, sharing space and presence.

Towards the end of 2020, my husband and I looked for ways to spend time together since we could not get away from home for many dates. We developed a new weekly routine of late-night tea time. Sure, we enjoy the little treats we would not usually indulge in, and tea is quite comforting. Still, more than that, it is simply having that uninterrupted time together. Sometimes the time includes reflections on the day, but the goal is to focus on each other, not even the tea.

Lately, now that we have teenagers who can manage, we sneak away once a week in the early mornings for coffee (for him) and tea (for me). These usually have an intentional purpose of looking at our calendar for the week, looking for ways to be productive, and talking about matters of importance.

These frequent, regular meetings did not occur with the expressed purpose of strengthening our relationship. They naturally happened because we enjoy each other’s company and can’t get enough of each other. There are times we seek each other for company and different times of intentional scheduling. Our focus is not on the words we will share; it is on shared time and communion, enjoying each other’s presence, and growing closer together. Making time for each other grows organically because we genuinely enjoy time together.

In the book “A Praying Life,” Paul Miller (no relation) compares our prayer life to a family meal – time together, no rush, enjoying each other’s company with laughter and discussions. We often approach our prayer time, if we even have one, as a duty, a daily checklist, or a Christian discipline. But, as Miller points out by sharing Revelation 3:20, God wants something more wonderful for us than that: “If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and eat with him, and he with me.” Yes, he wants a relationship, but the God of Heaven also wants to feast with us! He is not waiting for us to approach with a perfect prayer framework, although those can be helpful. He simply sets the table and opens the door for us to spend time with Him.

Prayer is one of the most neglected works of the Christian, maybe because we look at it as work. In modern, hurried times where eating a meal is just a duty and necessity, we do not know what it is like to feast with a friend, slowing down, relishing the moment and the company.

All great, big things begin with a small step. What would happen if you took a small step to slow down, lean in, and find a small moment to talk to the King and Creator today? It may start with spending time with a close, earthly friend and tasting what that type of relationship is like. As I said, beautiful routines have taken shape in my home with my best friend, actually, two of them – my husband and my Lord!

Ashlie Miller and her husband, Chad, live in Concord, NC. You can contact her on ashliemiller.com.

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