August

How does the writer know his character or the painter his subject? How does the builder know his house but to build it? How does one know...

“Would you like a pop?” “Yes, I like my Pop.” “No, I mean a soda.” “A soda? Do you mean a coke?” “Yes, a coke.” I knew at this moment...

Morning, Lord. It’s me. I’m here in Four Holes Community sitting on my screen porch close to the swamp. I thought I would muse a bit...

We are adept at hardening our anger, finding ways to suppress and repress it, rationalize it, even polish it and call it good, expending...

The clock said 5:30 a.m. My body said it was too early. Easing into this quiet morning, the Barred owl hooted. Hearing the distinct, “Who...

There are some who like to blame God for evil in the world. I do not think He is the cause because I do not think Him capable of it. I do...

Dad never said much. He was not a silent man, but fathers and sons seldom communicate in words. When exercising words, he did say to me,...

Mixed images and emotions pervade my memories from Junior High. Awkward is an understatement as I remember those emerging pimpling days....

I’m up on the mountain. It’s early morn and the day is waking. Sitting outside on the porch, I sense mountain time settle over me much as...

It could be well argued (though argument is far from the point) the most important words in Christendom are “Take, eat” and “Drink from...

One of a golfer’s enduring bad habits and character flaws is to look in a fellow competitor’s bag to take a peek at their club selection....

This fine hushed morning entered my waking like all others – definite, dark and coaxing me toward consciousness. Slowing me into savoring...

Undeniable realization always comes, moments when vision is clear and unequivocal, when compensations and denials no longer supplant the...

To say someone is typically Southern is to say something about a good tomato, full of flavor, ripened, honest, generally and commonly...

Drop! Anticipating the ball rolling into the cup, the word left my lips with force. A few moments earlier, the line on which the ball...

I heard the familiar sound. An email arrived around 5:15 a.m. I know this because I was awake, stirring, going about my normal routine. I...

The day arrived and along with my golf bag and clubs, I carried all the associated anticipation, excitement and butterflies I normally...

My name is Jim McArthur. Sixty-three-years-old now, I was born to William and Ann in 1958 in St. Andrews Parish, South Carolina in the...

Ivo Clevenger showed early signs of his gift. Good with his hands, Ivo could conceive and build with wood what anyone described to him....

They call it mountain time. I call it otherworldly, surreal in some ways, slow and dripping like that Salvador Dali painting. Things,...