Perfect
Today I turned 28, the second and last time my age will have been a perfect number. Perfect numbers are so rare that the human lifespan only lets us experience two of them as ages -- six and twenty-eight. I didn't know what a perfect number was until I was nine or ten, so I missed out on the opportunity to celebrate being a perfect age last time around. Not this around. Adsit omen!
I celebrated by riding my bike to the top of Mt. Diablo for the first time. On the mountain, I saw two tarantulas, three bats, and a coyote. Two days ago, I rode to the top of Twin Peaks at midnight and saw an owl; following Rachel Chalmers's view of the auspicious nature of seeing an owl while exercising, I'll say again: Adsit omen!
(It's more correct to say omen accipio, but I like the symmetry with absit omen.)
While I was doing bicycle training this spring and summer, I found myself riding up a lot of hills and little mountains, and I decided that I wanted to ride up Mt. Diablo by the time I was 28. After a long enough while had gone by, there was only one day left in which to do it.
Thanks to Peter for being my guide and companion on the ride.
