Once again, I am moving. This time to a tiny cottage that used to be an upholstery shop with a tiny garden out back. I couldn’t be more pleased. Even though it was built in 1978, the construction is much like the crofts I saw down by the water up in the Scottish Highlands.

Even though I tend to move frequently, I make sure that the things I adore and that give me strength move along with me.

The bird above was a present from someone I met in London who is kindness personified. It was a birthday present carefully wrapped in newspaper, and was the last thing to leave my summer sublet. Currently it is in my car accompanying me on road trips and reminding me that even the tiniest of things can bring great joy.

I was given these buttons on a recent trip to my grandmother’s as I pored through my great-grandmother’s sewing box. Just like I was surprised to learn that Scotch tape used to come in metal canisters, I was also surprised at the number of hat pins my great grandmother kept even though I never knew her to wear a hat.

Everytime I move, going through my possessions is like a treasure hunt through time as I backtrack through old situations with a new frame of mind. Everytime I move is a chance to remember tiny things, big things, forgotten things, a chance to relive them again and see them for the stories that have been shared, the people I have met and the lessons I have learned.

Everytime I move is like a small homecoming.