Issue #4 The Great Salt Lake

An Ecosystem in Collapse 3.9.2023

The very facts of the world are a poem. Light is turned to sugar. Salamanders find their way to ancestral ponds following magnetic lines radiating from the earth. The saliva of grazing buffalo causes the grass to grow taller. Tobacco seeds germinate when they smell smoke. Microbes in industrial waste can destroy mercury. Aren’t these stories we should all know? Robin Wall Kimmerer, Braiding Sweetgrass: Indigenous Wisdom, Scientific Knowledge, and the Teachings of Plants.

Dearest Reader,

There was a time when the following statements were true about the Great Salt Lake:

Saline lakes, like the Great Salt Lake, depend on a delicate balance between streamflow and evaporation.

Four thousand one hundred ninety-eight feet is the minimum healthy water level.

Salinity is best when it hovers at 15%.

Bear River, one of three main tributaries, supplies 60% of the Lake’s water.

The Lake’s largest island, Antelope Island, is home to sheep, deer, bison, coyotes, and antelope.

Two hundred and thirty-seven species of migratory birds, with names like Marbled Godwit, Snowy Plover, and Long-billed Dowitcher, nest in wetlands off Antelope Island State Park.

Millions of migratory birds feed on brine flies that coat the shore during migration season.

Brine fly eggs rest on microbialite mounds immersed in shallow water.

Dearest Reader,

Would you pause for a moment? Imagine, if you will, that this communication arrives as a handwritten letter. Imagine nothing is being asked of you but to breathe with what is unfolding at Great Salt Lake. Imagine I’ve written to you personally because this story may sound as if it lives in a Utahn ecosystem yet our response will determine the future of every ecosystem. If you prefer to hear my voice (along with additional commentary), please find the audio button at end of this essay.

Here we are…

The following is now true about the Great Salt Lake:

The largest saltwater lake in the western hemisphere is shrinking and scientists at Brigham Young University have given it a life expectancy of five years.

The Great Salt Lake has endured two decades of drought.

Water consumption has increased.

Tributaries feed less water to the Lake.

The main tributary, Bear River, has been dammed 61 times. Sixty-one reservoirs fill before the residual water flows to the Lake.

The Lake is 9 feet below the healthy level of 4198 feet.

The salinity level has increased to 19%.

Previously free from predators, migratory birds are hunted by coyotes crossing the causeways connecting Antelope Island to the mainland.

The number of brine flies, the food source of migratory birds, is decreasing.

Brine fly eggs mature on microbialites, ancient ‘living’ rocks, immersed in shallow water.

Microbialites are drying due to low water levels.

There is a divide between those who view the Lake as a commodity and those who acknowledge the Lake as a living and interconnected ecosystem. Without citizens’ and industrys’ commitment to a 30-50% drop in water consumption, the Great Salt Lake will be yet another environmental casualty.

Earlier this year, scientists from Brigham Young University demonstrated that the Great Salt Lake would be a dry bed in five years. The consequences extend beyond losing this iconic body of water. Toxins have accumulated in the lake bed. If the Lake dries, toxic dust will remain. Scientists estimate that the death toll from wind-blown toxins will be substantial. The lake bed and adjacent land will be uninhabitable.

Poet Nan Seymour has long advocated for the Lake. She echoes Robin Wall Kimmerer and Terry Tempest Williams when she speaks of the Lake as kin, a sentient being with personhood and rights. During the 2022 Utah State Legislature, Nan was the Lake’s Poet-in-Residence. This year she held a 47-day vigil at the Lake during the legislative session.

“The life of the Great Salt Lake is inseparable from our own. Even as the active collapse of our ecosystem challenges our notions of hope, we devote ourselves to a future shaped by human reverence, humility, and reciprocity. We gather to increase our tenderness toward brine shrimp, microbialites, and winged citizens of the air. We carry each other through spells of despair. We gather to revere all that is vital and alive.” Nan Seymour

The Lake is an economic engine for the agricultural, mineral, and oil industries. It is important to note, at such a tender moment in this ecosystem’s life, that oil companies fund studies of the Lake’s microbialites. These rare and ancient ‘living stones’ can be indicators of underwater oil sources.

“The predominant culture acts as if the Lake is inconsequential and peripheral. Even worse, we have made the lake and surrounding wetlands a sacrifice zone and labeled her body “wastewater.” Our most egregious polluters, extractors, and our state prison line the shores.”

“Lake-facing people know where the sacred center is. Great Salt Lake is the origin of vitality in this bioregion and we have irrevocably turned our hearts and faces towards her great life.” Nan Seymour

Activists, including Nan, testified before the Natural Resource committee. Their proposal advocated a healthy water level of 4198 feet. The proposal died in committee. The 2023 legislature adjourned without bold action.

So…what would a viable plan to save the Lake look like? Brigham Young University’s report cited that water usage must drop 30-50%. Residents will have to make lifestyle decisions. Mineral companies will need to stop building longer canals. Agriculture and development will need to give up something. The courage required to meet this moment is reminiscent of WW II. Adapting, to gas rationing and frugal lifestyles, was daunting for a generation with austere childhood memories of the 1929 Depression. We are called as citizens to think of all ecosystems in our daily decisions. The stakes involve not only Utah but ultimately every nation, all people, and every species. Our response to the Great Salt Lake will set precedent for how we tend to all ecosystems.

The scientific and poetic fact remains: saline lakes require a delicate balance between streamflow and evaporation. May we honor the Great Salt Lake as our kin.

with a breath of love, 🌱Kath

Questions for you (answer as many as you like…even one answer would be helpful):

1. Do you have stories or knowledge about the Great Salt Lake?

2. What would you do if you lived near the Great Salt Lake?

3. How do you define kin?

4. What are you reading?

Author’s notes:

Thank you to the readers who remind me that my writing covers multiple stories in short pieces. Refining my writing is a development opportunity. Thank you always for your suggestions. If you wish to leave a private comment, you may email: sanctuarytwo@gmail.com. I personally answer my mail.

Many, many thanks to Nan Seymour for answering my numerous emails. All photos are courtesy of Nan.

What I’m reading:

• Nan Seymour’s book prayers not meant for heaven. Nan is a generous and wise poet. You can order her book at www.nanseymour.com. She’s on Instagram: @nan_seymour.

• Erosion by Terry Tempest Williams—a serious series of environmental essays written with integrity and authority.

• High Conflict: How We Get Trapped and How We Get Out by Amanda Ripley. The book is about how people and groups get trapped in mutually-destructive and self-perpetuating conflicts and how to mediate peace. High Conflict is a remarkable book for our time.

We close with more from Robin Wall Kimmerer. May her words meet you where you are.

Doing science with awe and humility is a powerful act of reciprocity with the more than human world. Science can be a way of forming intimacy and respect with other species that is rivaled only by the observations of traditional knowledge holders. It can be a path to kinship. Robin Wall Kimmerer, Braiding Sweetgrass