Cactus with a view

 

I took this picture for him last July, with no thought or expectation that we would ever be together. It was on an outwardly wonderful but inwardly tumultuous family camping trip, where I was just starting to come to grips with the fact that my marriage was already over, but damnit, I was determined to have a great time anyway. Why let the beautiful landscape go to waste?

I was watching rain clouds driving through a valley below in mixture of storm, thunder, lightening, patches of sun, and rainbows, and photographing everything that I could in the spectacular light. I wondered if he would know exactly what species it was. I thought he would like the composition, the cliff face, the hedgehog cactus with a view, the combination of storm clouds and golden hour.  I was also was a little sad that I would never have a chance to show it to him, which is what I believed at the time.  I climbed down a ways and took the picture, amid warnings from the teenagers not to slip and fall on the wet rock. I wished he were there to talk with and to see this. I imagined him sitting next to me on the edge of the cliff, taking in and analyzing and appreciating the heartbreakingly beautiful scene in the way that only a naturalist's mind can. I wished I were not wishing for anything other than what I had, but I knew that for so many reasons that was impossible. 

When I finally posted it months later, he immediately commented with the species and subspecies, and a funny comment about the name. I wanted to tell him that the photo was for him, that I had noticed it earlier and returned to it when the light was just right, I had climbed down the cliff to get just the right angle, and that it reminded me of him somehow. Of course I did not say any of those things. I was just happy that he could see it.