It’s been a crazy-busy day for me. On top of the usual stuff, I’ve had meetings and errands; being unused to keeping appointments, things have felt more rushed than they really were.
Still, I was a bit aggravated that I didn’t get out of the house to do my errands until mid afternoon, which is later than I prefer. I tried not to be too put out about it though, because I know I’m fortunate to have such a flexible schedule.
Driving home, the sun was in my face. Just as I was gearing up to be crabby about that, I looked at the cloud cover that lightly obscured it, and gasped in delight instead. The cirrocumulus clouds were in a crosshatch pattern—something I’ve never seen before. Knowing how evanescent these clouds are, I tried to hurry home so I could get at least one photo to share here … because the sight triggered a glam metal song I haven’t thought of in decades.
Alas, there’s no photo. In the five minutes between seeing the crosshatched clouds and parking, the pattern had blurred enough to be indistinguishable. So we’re stuck with a love song whose only relevant line is the title.
To be honest, I didn’t know that “One in a Million” was even available on the radio station in my mind. I certainly didn’t remember Trixter until I saw the song in my YouTube search results. My only memories of the band (from the late 80s to early 90s) is that its sound is similar to other bands of that era—Cinderella, Stryper, FireHouse, Poison, and Ratt come to mind—and that a Z Rock DJ made fun of the band.
Anyway, seeing that beautiful cloud arrangement completely reframed my day: I am so happy that I was delayed, and that all the day’s circumstances led to me looking up at the perfect time.