The ultimate source of the Susquehanna River was a kind of meadow in which nothing happened: no cattle, no mysteriously gushing water, merely the slow accumulation of moisture from many unseen and unimportant sources, the gathering of dew, so to speak, the beginning, the unspectacular congregation of nothingness, the origin of purpose. And where the moisture stood, sharp rays of bright sunlight were reflected back until the whole area seemed golden, and hallowed, as if here life itself were beginning. This is how everything begins—the mountains, the oceans, life itself. A slow accumulation—the gathering of meaning.

James A Michener Chesapeake

I love this. I think of London and Eve growing slowly inside my widening belly, of snow piling up outside my dorm room window.

I don’t, though, think everything begins with a “slow accumulation.” I think some things begin suddenly and dramatically—like the universe.