Forgot your password?

We just sent you an email, containing instructions for how to reset your password.

Sign in

  • My father was very good at being supercilious. He had a facial expression that his mother described as being like "a camel about to spit," and a good line in damning aphorisms. One of his favourites was "little things please little minds." Remark on the shape of a cloud? "Little things please little minds." Laugh at the antics of a puppy? "Little things please little minds."

    The more I think about that, how dismissive it was of other people's pleasure, and the way it was meant to indicate how intensely superior my father was to the rest of the world, the more I realize (as if I didn't know already in so many ways) how wrong he was.

    Indeed, I would be bereft without the little things; they are some of my greatest pleasures. And, while my mind may not be great, I know it's not little.

    Here are some of the things that please me daily:

    The curve of a cat's whisker, and the short, densely grown fur on her nose.

    My puppy's eyelashes, remarkably long and curled.

    The rainbows in a soap bubble.

    The solemn and determined progress of a ladybird along the side of a leaf.

    Dust motes suspended in a glancing beam of sunshine.

    The shadow of a small bird.

    A perfectly modulated and achingly poignant chord of music in a minor key.

    A valiant flower growing in the crack of a pavement.

    Getting a notice that a library book is in, when I've just finished another book.

    A moment of shared amusement with a stranger.
    • Share

    Connected stories:


Collections let you gather your favorite stories into shareable groups.

To collect stories, please become a Citizen.

    Copy and paste this embed code into your web page:

    px wide
    px tall
    Send this story to a friend:
    Would you like to send another?

      To retell stories, please .

        Sprouting stories lets you respond with a story of your own — like telling stories ’round a campfire.

        To sprout stories, please .

            Better browser, please.

            To view Cowbird, please use the latest version of Chrome, Safari, Firefox, Opera, or Internet Explorer.