AT THE CHURCH O’ THE PINES, WE HAVE A TINY CHAPEL. An anteroom, a meditation room, or study, if you will, where one can, well, meditate or study. The tiny chapel had other uses in years past, but those are strictly verboten now. Tucked away among the balsams and ironwoods, it is a fine wildlife blind, a place to see without being seen—if the door is cracked open. Even a better place to listen—to bluejays, cardinals, nuthatches, wood thrushes, the gentle tapping of rain on the roof, the moaning of the wind in the pines. But it is a secret place… please, don’t tell anyone.