Venus in transit

It wasn't until I was on the corner of Fairmount and Lee that I remembered that today was the transit of Venus.  I was riding into the sun, heading west, and I recalled that I was "seeing" something that would not happen again for 105 years.  By the time I made it to Fairmount and Coventry, where some people had set up a viewing station, I thought I ought to pull over and watch the small dot of Venus moving across the sun, but, honestly, I needed to make it to the market for some bananas so I rode on.

Then the really important thing hit me, the most important thing of all.  I would never ride down Fairmount on this day again.  This day, with its North Carolina sky.  This day, with its San Diego perfect seventy.  This day, with its fresh scooter euphoria.

Nor will I ever laugh with Claudia and Adrian the way we did at lunch. I will never cheer for Sirr as I did during mediation try-outs.   I will never fall in love with the new Jason Mraz song, Frank D. Fixer, for the first time as I did just a few hours ago.  I will never link it, as I did, to Tia, someone I wish I could love all the way. I bet I will never have the exact conversation with Sheridan on the porch again.  One in which my four-year-old friend tells me that "if we are ever not with each other for a while, you will hug me because you love me so much." I will never sit as I am sitting now, typing these words of this day.

Venus in transit?  I get it.  The allure of a once in a lifetime planetary event.  Yep.  But, really, isn't every day a once in a lifetime planetary event?  Aren't we just lucky to be here, moment by moment by moment?