Praise Choruses from Lake-Facing People

when women walked to the water

Ancient land,
thousands of feet walked before mine—

Who am I to take for granted
the immense qualities she has?

The awe of the swans, the pelicans,
the multitudes, is disappearing.
Buffalo wander into backyards.

Lake effect? What lake effect?

A pickled bird, neck broken from salt
in flight from California.
I knew the lake when this water
came past the ranger’s check-in.

Sparkling salt-show and the remnants of birds,
a heady, nostalgic scent.

A sustainer of life that feels,
at first, unfriendly to humans—
stark, odiferous, with biting insects,
but a sustainer of our lives too
through extravagant ecosystems
which bring birds and lift water to mountains.

Silent glass of a lake,
snow, sand, blue, gray
mountain surrounding as guardians.

When grandma died, grandpa sunk.
The lake buoyed him up as he solo sailed himself back to life.

On my first trip to Great Salt Lake in 1997
I was taken by the salt crystals growing on the rocks
just below the water line. I took one of those rocks home.

As I was driving I saw my arms dry thick with salt.
Evidence of my incursion in the Great Salt Lake.
Dreary snow covers what used to be submerged sand.

The thought of legends from an inspired 4th grader
have become the dredged pit of human ignorance.

Forty years’ plunge, from high to low—
not graceful, like a swallow.
From the eighties, overflowing, to now
four decades later, plunge to death on the rocks below.

Grade-school girl scouts peddled across
the causeway to camp on the island.
40 years later, we are still bonded by that adventure.

When I stepped off the ramp onto the earth
I felt like I didn’t belong,
my human shoes stepping on her long-covered parts.

Bonneville’s bounty.
Legacy disrupted.
Matricide manifested.

Women who weep and ache for the
demise of the lake—

Action will reverberate and make
waves in the soul of our great body.

It’s a sad story
We came to our Great Salt Lake
Miles of empty beach.

I mourn the loss of the lake of my childhood.
The loss of floating—once long ago with my grandparents,
never today with my grandchildren to come!

I mourn the loss of boat rides with friends, from now-dead marina docks.

I am a sailor who honors and respects the water
grateful for all the beautiful sailing memories she has given me.
I will educate, advocate, and be a voice for Great Salt Lake.

Every evening I look west to the lake.
and am comforted watching the sun setting
over this body of water.

I now think of Great Salt Lake as a sentient being.
I wish for the lake to bloom again.

This chorus of praise and lament is a tapestry written by the members of The Utah Women’s Forum who spent time together studying and witnessing Great Salt Lake at Antelope Island on February 5th, 2022.