Beaches, Hummingbirds, Travel

Staying Too Long

The party’s over.

The flock of 20 or so hummingbirds that stopped by our yard to rest and refuel for several weeks has moved on.

Just part of the crowd that visited 
our feeders from first light to dusk

Three or four—probably our original group—stayed put. I wonder if they’re mentally preparing for the trip south.

Hummingbirds often hog the feeders.
I’ve heard that a few hummers stick around all year. 

Could it be the ready food supply? 

Is that good? 

I don’t know.

But I worry.

The birds had a rough time last winter.
They say we’re probably in for another harsh winter. I’ve tried admonishing my feathered friends not to hang around too long. 

But so far, they haven’t listened.

Their lingering reminds me of some of the people we’ve encountered on our travels. 

There was the scruffy young man on the New York sidewalk playing his guitar beside a sign asking for $$ to get home. 

So many people–one can get lost in a crowd in NYC.

Not much ambiance, but 
the seafood and burgers 
are good and reasonably priced!

I like the guy in need of dental work who waits tables at TC’s, a Navarre burger joint. 
I bet he was a looker when he first arrived in Paradise. He seems smart, and I can’t help wondering what he’d be doing if he’d gone home with his crew.
We’re almost there!

Each time, we pass a certain corner in Pensacola, I remember the emaciated woman with the skinny dog. 

Looking for her next fix?

But the one who haunts me most is the bedraggled young woman pushing her belongings in a grocery cart on the sidewalk in Vancouver. I bet she was living in a dorm or sorority house six months before instead on of the street. 

Sidetracked by booze and easy dope? 

Vancouver British Columbia is a beautiful city.

I shudder to think where that girl might be now. I hope she phoned home. 

That’s what I wanted to say to each of them.

Call your mother for bus fare home. 

She’s worried. And waiting by the phone.

Destin, Florida 1973
loved visiting all those places, and I can see the lure to stay. I wasn’t ready to come home the first time I went to Destin. 

But I’m glad I did.

The beach is so nice, sometimes
you just have to dance for joy!

I still love the Gulf Coast’s sugar sand. Even now, I’m tempted linger at Navarre Beach. If we didn’t have a houseful of cats and children and grandchildren nearby, I’d be happy to live there part of the year. 

We go often enough that we’ve met several transplants. Some came to the area with the military, others for a job or on vacation. Eventually, they found ways to stay or come back and settle down. 

But they’re different from the stragglers and panhandlers. They didn’t just hang around, hoping to extend the party. 

They had a plan. 

Steve, an artist and partner in
Saltwater Cottage, was
a man with a plan.

No one can party through life without suffering the consequences. 

There are always consequences.
I don’t mean to judge. Some of those folks are trapped in cruel addictions. Or they may not have anyone back home to send them a bus ticket.

I wish all those people knew the One who’s waiting to come to their rescue.

Maybe I should mention Him the next time I encounter a lonely soul who missed the last bus home.

What about you?

Do you know someone who needs a gentle nudge homeward? 

Let’s tell them about His amazing grace.

Then Peter said, “Silver or gold I do not have, but what I do have
I give you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk.”
Acts 3:6 

Copyright © Reflections from Dorothy’s Ridge 2015. All rights reserved

Excellence, friendship, Savannah, Southern Hospitality, Travel


Today I’m sharing some of the friendly faces, we encountered on our Savannah-Charleston trip. There was only one place where we encountered a couple of young clerks who must have gotten up on the wrong side of the bed that morning. It was a tourist store on the riverfront lacking the pride of ownership factor. We shrugged it off, and I’m happy to say they were the only locals we met who didn’t understand the power of hospitality in those two beautiful cities.

Expectant smiles as we prepare to roll out our first day

Karen and her Greg who entertained us in Birmingham

My guys who hosted us in Atlanta on the way.
Caroline, Maria, Emily, Brad


Deedee took good care of us
at the Staybridge in Savannah.

Carole Calvert at Go Fish ( a fair trade store) and I
had instant rapport because of our shared faith.

The staff at The Olde Pink House deserves
 an award for Friendliest Service.
Thus, our smiles

Arden our Charleston tour guide and her trusty steed, John

 Earl and his sweet wife. They rescued us on the way
to Charleston when our car was out of oil.

The fanciest hairdo at the Charleston Market

Our Singing Fudge Maker did such a great Stevie Wonder
with Isn’t It Fudgery, I bought some candy.
Carolyn with her Clint, Allison, Ella & Reagan,
our hosts in Atlanta on our trip home.

Some Familiar Faces

Marilyn greeted us for lunch

Betty Boop was there too


More Welcomes

The Bird Girl of Savannah made famous by the novel
has been moved to a museum that we didn’t have time to visit.
But we each bought a charm to remind us of her.

John Wesley still points The Way

The Waving Girl at Savannah Harbor
We didn’t see the White Rabbit
Bat Man and Robin were on their way to a party
in Charleston. We forgot to get autographs!
The service at the King Charles Inn on Meeting Street in Charleston was excellent. I was disappointed when I realized I didn’t get a picture of the friendly bellhop, David, who not only carried our bags but also checked the oil in the car. The manager circulated at Happy Hour and responded immediately to our comments about the comfort of the sofa-bed. We’d stay there again.
I laughed when I saw Karen had entitled our itinerary The Three Angels Trip. But now I think it fit perfectly, not so much because we were angelic but because we received treatment truly worthy of Hebrews 13:2.  

Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some have unwittingly entertained angels.