Is there a word for the disappointment felt when looking a picture that you had taken in a beautiful place?  

The work it took to get that spot, slowly trekking through hills and valleys, leaving mementos of sweat along your path.  The moments before you reached the pinnacle, the heightening excitement.  The absolute awe-inspiring majesty that filled your being, as you stood there slowly taking it in, wishing the moment wouldn't pass.  Praying that it wouldn't pass.  Taking a picture of it, so you'd always remember it.

Then, looking at the photo months later and realizing the camera could in no way do your experience justice.  The flat, lifeless piece of gloss before you could not store your emotions, the wind at your back, the thoughts racing through your head.  Those pieces of the experience are now mere echoes, reverberating through your memories.  You realize that when other people look at this picture, they will not see what you saw.  They will see a pretty landscape.  Nothing more, nothing less.

What a melancholy thought.

There should be a melancholy word to go with it.