Yesterday, on a mundane errand, I happened upon something spectacular.

I was headed for the UPS store to drop off a package, a boring chore. But as I swung into the parking lot I looked up and saw -- really SAW -- the most magnificent cloud formation.

I’ve never seen Denali or Mont Blanc, let alone Mt. Everest. Most likely, I never will. But no mountain could be more spectacular than this cloud formation was. Multi-colored, rising layer upon layer, a white peak, high and mighty, lording over it all, a great head of vapor, like God nodding in approval of Creation on the Seventh Day. Sunshine glanced off parts of it, while other parts were darkening, knotting the stuff of storms. It made me think of Albert Bierstadt’s paintings of the Rockies.

I parked the car but I didn’t get out right away. I sat at the wheel and stared up at this magnificent thing. After awhile I looked around me to see if anyone else had noticed. People were coming and going, both on foot and in their cars, but I didn’t see anyone looking upward.

I thought, what would it take to attract their attention? If this doesn’t stop them in their tracks, what would? A double rainbow, yes. Especially here in Ohio where rainbows are rare. Not like Hawaii where they appear almost every day.

Then I thought, what if we lived in a cloudless world? What if no human had ever seen a cloud? And then one day, THIS suddenly appeared.

People would run about, jumping up and down, gesticulating wildly and shouting, “Oh, my God! Look at THAT!” They would bellow with desperation, weep for joy, embrace one another, pray.

I got out of my car and carried my package to the UPS store where the clerk, a twenty-something lady, greeted me cheerily. I greeted her in turn and I almost said, “If you have a moment, you really should come outside so that you can see an amazing cloud formation.”

But I hesitated. I feared she might think I was up to something, that I was playing a nefarious trick on her, that I had “an agenda.” I may be old enough to be her grandpa but, being male, I’m still something of a threat, despite whatever goodness is in my heart. I try not to behave in ways that might alarm people, especially women, especially young women.

So I just gave her the package, pocketed the receipt and nodded with a smile when she concluded our transaction, dismissing me with the hackneyed admonition: “Have a great day.”

When I came back out into the parking lot I looked for the cloud formation but it had already altered greatly. There was nothing much to see. It was still a pretty sky but the drama had passed. The clouds were no longer dazzling white nor portentous blue. Just ordinary clouds. Beautiful in their way but not spectacular.

Still, I had the memory of it. I had seen a great thing.

I felt a sudden rush of gratitude.

“Gratitude” is the title of a solo piano piece I want to share with you today.

I haven’t written much for solo keyboard. I always seem to want to have some other instrument there in addition to the piano -- a clarinet, cello, oboe, what have you -- playing “the tune” with the piano in a collaborative role.

Nevertheless, I did write this piece and it was performed a few weeks ago in a service at my church, as you’ll see here:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jFKhmkihrHI

Sorry for the bother, but after you click on the link, you must scroll ahead to begin at 7:13 and start there. Stay with it until the music ends at 10:28. You’ll see our beautiful chancel at Mt. Auburn Presbyterian and my dear friend Chris Miller who is on hand to turn pages for the pianist, Beth Troendly -- whom you cannot see because she sits behind the piano. Then, while the music is being played, our pastor approaches Chris to confer about something. Life goes on even while music is being played!

It’s a short piece. It was the Prelude for that Sunday’s service.

To see a PDF of the score, click on the link above this message.

If you follow the score you will notice some discrepancies between what you are seeing and what you are hearing. That’s because Beth is playing an early version of the piece. I did some revisions two months ago but by then she had already learned the earlier version, liked it, decided to stay with it.

The revised version is slightly “richer” harmonically and offers a few more tiny counter-melodic figures, But it’s basically the same piece.

As always, feel free to forward this message to friends who might enjoy it.

Anyone can be on my little list of recipients for these mpFrees (as I call these musical emails). To sign up, people can email me at rick@sowash.com, sending just one word: "Yes." I'll know what it means.

Rick Sowash
Cincinnati, OH
Aug. 9, 2026