Wrong Light

I hiked up Salt Creek Canyon in Canyonlands National Park last year, and I wrote this poem for my wife on the way back from Angel Arch--a short side trip of a couple of miles. On this markedly photographic journey of 6 days, I did NOT get a good photo of Angel Arch, certainly one of the most stunning landmarks of nature in the entire world.



Wrong Light

The map thoroughly scrutinized,
I moved like an ancient hunter
to gaze upon the angel.
Camera in hand,
my dreams of sunset wash on angelic arch
were vivid and alive.
My path seemed easy--
and it was.
My visions marked each butte and cliff face
from my map memories.
Finally, I glimpsed it on my right.
To my dismay
the path approached from north and east
leaving the arch angel in dull silhouette,
gray and brooding.
Some consolation:
the surrounding cliffs were fiery and warm with welcoming light.
Watching waning light
my thoughts turned to you--
my Angel,
whom I so often approach from the north and the east
when sunset's glow is found on better paths.
But you stand solid,
grateful for those times
when my path and timing bring us together in
warmth and welcome.