Letting some of it trickle out while trying to soak it all in

Tuesday, January 23, 2024

Will we make 2024 the turning point for Great Salt Lake?

This Saturday, more than a thousand Utahns gathered at the state capitol to celebrate progress and support next steps in our efforts to restore Great Salt Lake. The number and diversity of participants makes me believe that we are in a different world than last year. I think that we are on the brink of something new. We are moving from preparation to implementation. We are graduating from impotence to action.

As usual, I went off script at the rally, but here is what I wrote in preparation:


Wow! Who is feeling something different about our future than when we arrived today? I am. Do you feel the power and love of our little band? One of the most important lessons of ecology and human history is that little things matter. Each of you matters.

To use Terry’s phrase, I feel something deeper than hope. For me, I call this faith. Faith is believing that we can create a better world, but faith is more than just a belief. Faith is the state of being where we let confidence overcome fear, but faith is more than just a state of being. Faith is an act of creation where we mobilize our love. That love moves us naturally from compassion to action and back to compassion. As we read in James, “For as the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without works is dead also.”

Is our faith dead? No! You all prove that our body is alive, and our faith is sizzling hot.


Many of us gathered here last year to call for change. We asked for a clear target and decisive action to rescue the lake we all depend on. Many of us prayed for divine assistance to give us the time we needed to repent and change direction.

Things have changed since then, and like usual, not in the ways we expected. Some progress that seemed inevitable stalled and fizzled out. But some obstacles that seemed immovable have dissolved.

Tens of thousands of people have gathered at events throughout the region to support the Great Salt Lake rescue. New leaders have germinated all over the watershed, including students of all ages, citizens of all walks of life, and leaders in government and business. I have seen a change in the relationship between urban and rural communities—less blaming and less fear; more solidarity and even enthusiasm. Visionary farmers are making major changes, and pioneering cities are pushing the envelope to get water to the lake. We are seeing incredibly diverse community groups collaborate in new ways—forging friendships that will bless our region for generations.


Thanks to the tireless work of educators and reporters, our struggle has turned into the world’s best reality TV show. Hundreds of millions of people are tuned in to see if we can crack the code. Will we be the first community to save our saline lake, or are we just the next Aral Sea or Owens Lake? When there is coverage of Great Salt Lake, even the comments sections have gotten more constructive. The world is watching, and they are rooting for us.

Our elected officials are a part of this cultural shift. Just this week, the state established “a target range for the lake between 4,198-4,205 feet” through its office of the Great Salt Lake Commissioner. Will we take a moment to celebrate and give thanks? The Great Salt Lake Watershed Enhancement Trust is slowly securing water for the lake, and some of the most powerful members of the Utah house and senate are working to implement and improve water policy.

All of this leads me to believe that saving the lake is exactly the crisis we have needed. Realizing our mutual dependence and relationship is helping shake us out of the division and despair that seem so persistent right now. Living up to our responsibility as caretakers and ancestors brings opportunity for service, belonging, and lasting love.

Like water, we are percolating towards the lake. Sometimes our progress is fast like a river rapid. Other times the change is quiet and patient, like the groundwater slowly flowing to the lake beneath our feet.



I want to invite you to do two things:

First, I want you to send some thank you emails, letters, or phone calls. Will you reach out to at least one elected official at the city, state, and federal levels to thank them for their work on Great Salt Lake?

Second, will you reflect on what unlocked your love for the lake? What experiences and what people helped you recognize your dependence on and love for the beating heart at the center of our universe? Will you commit to inviting at least one person a week to do the same? Most people care, but most people aren’t awake yet.

We are more than just a part of our watershed, we are the most important part right now. Great Salt Lake is inviting us to learn how to live in our high mountain home.



I sometimes hear from researchers that the Earth will be fine. Maybe humans will suffer, maybe we’ll even be extinguished, but the Earth has weathered far worse. That brings me such sorrow. Do we have such little compassion for the Earth that we can forget her love for us? Like all life in its impossible diversity, we are needed and loved.

The lake doesn’t need our despair; she needs our discipline.

The lake doesn’t need our anxiety; she needs our action.

The lake doesn’t need our resignation; she needs our resolve.

The lake doesn’t need our pity; she needs our policies.


Let’s get water to the lake.

Sunday, December 31, 2023

Phew

"I try because reformation is necessary and despair is criminal.”

Samuel Johnson 1775

Sometimes, you can pick your own pace. There is enough safe space on the slope that the route and the rate are within your control.

Other times, you have cliffs on both sides. The couloir is the only way down. The longer you hesitate, the greater the risk. Higher stakes and less control.

A look across the ridge during our February ski tour of Mount Timpanogos. Pick your line carefully.

The last two years have felt like couloir after couloir. Just when I thought I could slow down to take a breath and take stock of the situation, the terrain closed in. Family challenges, lawsuits, threatened lakes. Boom, boom, boom.

Things are slower on the way up, but route and rate still matter.

Maybe life is less like a "choose your own adventure" novel and more like when you're a kid on a road trip. You can choose whether or not to bother your brother, but the itinerary is pretty set. Learn, accept, make the most of what you are offered. Find your way.

Naomi wishes us well with a quad-olived-double-peace sign.

Though things have never been more out of my control, I have an abiding and surprising assurance that the route is good. Every day is a miracle, and each conversation is a gift. Thank you to all who have helped my family and me over the last many years. If life is a road trip, I'm grateful to share the bench with each of you.

"Worrying means you suffer twice".

Newt Scamander. 

Thursday, November 30, 2023

Movies by my kids

 I love to see people's creations. You get a different view of someone's personality when you experience what they make. This is maybe especially true for those you know the most.

My kids and I have been making little home movies that we share on YouTube for just over a decade. They started out just as the stars, but now they are conceiving, filming, directing, and even (as of this week) editing their productions.

Here is a sampling:

Ingrid's Three Dreams (February 2012)

Tricycle Dilemma (April 2013)

Ingrid and a dead cow (December 2013)

Why Joseph Smith became a Mormon (July 2014)

Dancing in the Paris train station (July 2015)


John Henry went to the moon (August 2020). This is the first independent video creation.

Potato goes to the moon (December 2020). The long awaited sequel.

Scar Tissue cover (September 2021). This is one of our more elaborate collaborations. Rest in peace Jasmine, Aurora, and Gargamel.

An interview with Kay Bradford (April 2022). This is a different type of production--an interview with our nearly 100-year-old neighbor just months before she passed on.

3-year-old tries to trick DJI Mavic 3 Active Track (August 2022). This is Naomi's first solo creation.

Movies for Lucy episodes 1-3 (December 2022). The kids made these stop motion movies to cheer up their sick cousin.

A day in the life of three beans (September 2023). This is one of Caspian's first solo creations.

7 maybe 8 fascinating facts about guinea pigs (November 2023). And here is the newest creation that Henry edited this week. It was filmed back in September.

It is such a privilege to watch these children grow and grow with them.

Tuesday, October 31, 2023

Are the Utah Lake islands really dead?

 Over the past few weeks, a lot of new details have come to light about the failed project to build the world's largest artificial island chain across Utah's largest freshwater lake. Many of us were hoping that this project was in the rear view mirror, but like an Olive Garden endless pasta bowl, this project just won't quit.

Saturday, September 30, 2023

Can cloud seeding save Great Salt Lake?

 This year, the state substantially scaled up their investment in cloud seeding. This weather manipulation technique 

Thursday, August 31, 2023

The last to climb Lone Peak

I grew up in Orem, Utah. If you've never been there, the mountains cup my city against Utah Lake like a bucket seat in a fancy car. I used to feel exposed and uncomfortable in flat places without mountains on all horizons. 

The mountains and lake of my home.

I have explored many of the mountains around Utah County but not the peaks on the north side of the bowl. That is, not until this month. My friend and colleague Matt Heiner invited a bunch of people to meet at the Peak View trailhead at 4:45am on August 14th. Five us total showed up: Matt, Garritt, Richard, Steve, and me.

We saw a solifuge on the main trail. Such cool creatures.

The city was still in night mode as we approached the ridge.

Can you see both Utah Lake and Great Salt Lake?

Limber pine leaning toward Utah Lake.

Peak in sight, the four travelers consulted the map.

The trail becomes pretty diffuse as it climbs into the cirque.


And even more so once within.

There was just a tiny bit of snow left, and the extreme patterns of plants on the edge.

Close-up of these pioneers.

Can you see why they call these the Question-Mark Cliffs?

The steepest section of the trail is climbing up this chute to the second ridge.

I'd never seen Utah Lake from this angle.

The mountains to the north aren't as beautiful as Utah Valley's, but they are still nice ;)

Antelope "Island" and the Salt Lake Valley.

It is pretty striking to see how close downtown is to so much exposed lakebed.

The mountains of my childhood from a new angle.

We don't have many glacial features in Utah, but Bells Canyon has some nice till and moraines.

Even this little lake; turquoise from glacial flower.

Just a man, his sandwich, and water bottle.

That final ridge isn't technical, but it's intimidating to have sheer drop offs.

I was surprised how nervous this made me. 

Almost to the top.

Can you make out the tallest free-standing structure west of the Mississippi?

Proof.

The lake.

Both lakes (and the mine, of course).

You know that feeling when you realize you're going to have to climb back down?

At least we didn't have to climb that ridge.

It was sunny but not blazing on the way down.

We could tell we were almost back by the strange collection of houses on Traverse Ridge.

It was really humbling to experience such expansive and well-preserved wilderness so close to where we live. I'm so grateful to those who had the foresight to create the Lone Peak Wilderness Area. As our valley grows, I believe that keeping land and water public will enhance our quality of life and ensure our descendants can feel the awe and communion we are privileged to enjoy.