Small

It had been a full afternoon at the horse refuge, beginning with a carrot-filled flirtation between Titanic and me. He appeared to have heard my voice when I arrived, and I found him “waiting for me” at the far end of the barn, his soft …

Whenever I first arrive in France, it’s impossible for me to practice small. In the tiny medieval village where we stay I encounter so much beauty and joy, I cannot slow down and concentrate. Whenever I arrive, I have to give myself permission to take …

I’ve seen him every week for the past two years, his home parked on the small street where I visit my acupuncturist each Tuesday. Sometimes he’s sitting at the wheel of his white van; other times, he’s walking back from a shower or a meal …

I wanted Stephen to build me a Little Library for years, and when he finally did—for my birthday several years ago—I was thrilled. In the first place, I love the concept: miniature lending libraries all over town walkers can both dip into and contribute to. …

After Stephen and I had walked from our house up the Arlington, I went into Peets to order a latte while he waited for me outside with Frank. As usual, Peets required a bit of a wait, and as usual, I found myself tingling with …

“I feel like I’m on a different planet,” Amelie said a few minutes after we’d arrived at the sand dunes just north of Fort Bragg. Gazing out at the hills, meadows, ripples, swells, and rivulets of luminous sand around us, all covered by the blanket …

Stephen’s buzzer had just sounded and he was off in search of his arugula/lemon pizza, leaving me to sip my latte and take in the scene around me. We were in the back garden of Café Beaujolais, in Mendocino, an offshoot of the restaurant next …