I spend my summers along the edges of the Great Salt Lake. In the mornings, a mist creeps up obscuring the horizon. Midday, when there’s no breeze and it’s really still—the lake is a mirror and you’re in an infinite land of clouds. When the wind picks up and there’s a heavy breeze that signals a passing of a storm, you can pretend you’re looking out at a wild and unruly sea. The summers along the lake are my favorite. When it gets just hot enough, the water temperature and the salt combine to turn parts of the lake pink. No matter what conditions you experience, it’s always magical. The lake is never the same.
What I love the most about the lake is the seemingly endless possibilities. The conditions are ever changing and no two days are the same. You could go out every day for a week and walk away with a completely different scene every time. Some days, the birds dance in front of the sun as it sets. On others, you might see a lone kayaker creating the only ripples in an otherwise still body of water.
On this day, the wind was powerful. The waters were sprinkled with the white waves and choppy even by the shallow shore. I watched as my friend walked on the salt that divided where the water went from blue to pink. She stood still in the noise of the rushing water, she stood small in the beauty of the infinite landscape.
