Seeing the Great Salt Lake

Decided to finally go see the Great Salt Lake today. Drove up through Salt Lake proper, and then headed west to Antelope Island. Must confess that I wanted to see what Terry Tempest Williams had written so beautifully about in Refuge: An Unnatural History of Family and Place. To use a hackneyed phrase, this book unravels the human heart.

When I got to the park, I was first impressed with the swarming bugs that hovered around my car, just waiting for an opening to invade me in my car. I quickly handed over the few dollars for my entrance ticket, and just as quickly closed the window. As I drove along the isthmus to reach the island, my weird glee at seeing bugs smashed up against my windshield gave way to a growing sense of the beauty around me. Mush as I hated to expose mysel to the bloodthirty insects outside, I did stop a few times to get a better view of the birds lazily paddling in the water, every once in a while spreading their wings to swoop and glide across the salty air.

Got to the island, feeling very welcomed by the mounds of sunflowers blooming by the bushel on the roadside, and stopped first at the Visitor's Center. Displays on the formation of Bonneville Lake. Salt Exhibits. Displays on how the buffalo got here, and the first settlers on the island. Exhibit on the bird species found in the area. A tank of brine shrimp. And a video room that had, among the supporters of the preserve, Terry Tempest Williams speaking about her connection to the land and wildlife, reading a few sections from her writings.

My last stop before leaving the island was to go to the beach. Of course it was deserted. I stopped at the ede of the parking lot, took off my shoes, and walked to the shore. The water is beautiful, for which I was grateful. I'm always rather disappointedd to see water that is unlovely. As I stumbled across the long stretch of sand, the shimmering of the blue water and sky drew me closer. Got to the edge and just listened to the soothing lap of the water. Touched the water, and left with a souvenir particle of peace in my soul.