When I was three years old, I used to think that the true measure of things was how big they were in comparison to how big I was. There were Billy-sized things. And there were bigger things. But when I was three, almost everything fell into the category of "bigger things." Most everything was huge when I was small, but seems to have shrunk, now that I have become huge.

Whenever I go back to the house in which I previously lived ... the school in which I previously studied ... the fields in which I previously played ... and the woods in which I previously roamed ... I am amazed at how common, how ordinary, and (yes) how tiny they seem compared to the way I remember them. I find myself wondering: "How did it happen that (after I left it) they came along and downsized my entire neighborhood?…