Reflection: The Sting Of Salt Lake
Before I arrived at Salt Lake, I fully planned to float in its waters. I’ve seen plenty of people do it before, and I was so curious – with the salt density and all. Low and behold when I finally stepped onto the rather solidified salt flats, I knew this wouldn’t be a possibility.
Hopping out of my car, at first, was quite the nuisance. It wasn’t the lake or the smell itself that put me off, but rather the distance I knew I would have to trek to actually come in contact with the lake. I began my journey, and the closer I came, the stronger the scent that wafted from the still blue crater before me became. It wasn’t a bad smell, but really just different.
What finally shocked me to my core when I was finally only a few meager steps from the shore, was the amount of flies that gathered all over the surface of the lake. They buzzed below me, continuing on with their lives as if a giant wasn’t about to wreak havoc on their limited life spans. Their noise wasn't too much of a disturbance – until I realized that there was so many of them.
I think my image of Salt Lake was much different before I just showed up demanding it to be something that it wasn’t. I expected a living organism that breathes life into all that surrounds its body. I expected to greet a lake that was as familiar to me as the back of my hand. It was definitely a spectacle I hadn’t at all expected – but nonetheless stunning in all forms of the word.
As my eyes scanned the horizon, and watched as the shades of the water and sky above blended together in the center, I decided I would do what I came here to do: step into the lake. The water was barely up to my calves when I could feel stinging sensations biting at my ankles. Immediately, I was beginning to notice the effects of the salt on my body.
Horrified, I jumped out of the water and onto the white surface. Now, my feet weren’t just stinging anymore, they were drying at a drastic rate from all that salt, and, I had around a mile of walking until I reached my car again. With a sigh I kept trudging on, all the while creating fake scenarios of how the salty earth below was chipping away at the wetness of my lips creating barren and cracked petals on my face. In case you were wondering, my lips, and feet are doing just fine, my ego on the other hand…
This experience alone taught me that it’s okay to have your past judgements and images shattered before your very eyes. The deep and still colors of the blue lake echoed against the jagged white salt, transfixing me with its direct effortlessness. It’s always perfectly fine when things don’t go your way, because you’re going to get a story out of it one way or another, so you might as well just hang on for the ride.
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