Tonight we are camping on an island in the Great Salt Lake. One minute we were in the middle of strip malls and suburban houses and the next we were in the middle of the lake surrounded by wetland grasses and birds. The day has been almost unbearably hot, but the evening is perfectly warm and thunderstorms are blowing in. We sit under the canopy and watch the spidery lightning striking in the distance. Billie Holiday quietly croons “Them There Eyes” and the crickets chime in. And as if to remind me that no moment can be totally idyllic, a mosquito buzzes lightly in my ear.
The next morning we awake to see buffalo grazing outside of our window. The thunderstorms have passed and all around is the sweet smell of dry grass. Salt Lake City looks like a mirage in the cloudy distance. There are no sounds but the calls of seabirds and the faint rustle of the buffalo as their huge bodies gracefully swish through the tall vegetation.