Our Accidental Poet asked me the other day if we had snow yet. "Never in October. This is my favorite time of year," I told her. "Leaves blazing, sun warming, wind with just the tiniest pinch of the season. No. Never in October."
I wake this morning, struggle into fleece pants, boots, mittens, two sweatshirts (because I can't find my jacket) and get Savvy out for her first business of the day. Peering through the dark, I see never falling from the sky.
I'm calling it Accidental Snow. Because it's not supposed to happen this way. Too early, I'm not ready, it takes away the beauty of the trees and my last valiant dahlias fighting the inevitable.
There's a space between will and could and never. It's the latter space--between could and never--where God likes to play.
My head can comprehend the could but my heart fears the never, because the closer I get , the more God has to pry my fingers away from the maybe-later.
That snow coming down is today's Accidental Never. With God, it's never accidental. And I'm so afraid of slipping...