driving to san luis obispo

We pulled off Highway 46
Into the wide turnout where Hwy 41
Tees into low hills south,
Dan checks the atlas and pronounces it
"Too winding."
Open the truck door,
Amble out for stretch and aire,
A brief shower had just passed
But now the low setting sun
Has lit up the distant hills
And wide grass valleys
With a soft purple light,
Rose-tinting the last low clouds
Drifting slowly east-
I've been around the block
Seen many things
But such sheer ravishment
By light
I can't recall