Wings of Thunder

 

Migrating birds at Great Salt Lake
Audubon image

Great Salt Lake, Utah, drying up
in drought, 2022
inhabitat.com image

A mega-drought is choking the southwest.

The Great Salt Lake is drying up. Yet the birds

with wings of thunder still touch down,

ten million strong, as they have done for centuries:

shorebirds and sandhill cranes, dowichers, grebes,

teals and snowy plovers, all singing

life's sweet song.

They crowd into what lake is left

along the widening shore, hungry

climate refugees in need of food and rest,

not finding enough of either, searching

in vain for more. 

And yet they come, because they must,

as they have down all the years, in trust,

that there will be some of what they 

most depend upon,

before they can fly on.

The shores are dry and cracked; heat holds

the desert in its grip. And yet, the blue bowl

of sky still arches over; a tender coloured slip

that reassures there is still wonder here.

At the edge of death,

heartbreaking beauty
is still shining

sharp and clear.

Sunrises and sunsets still paint the world

in wonder. This place has always

welcomed the birds with wings of thunder.

Juniper, aspen and cottonwood roots reach deep,

as if in prayer, stretching down in hopes

of finding some needed moisture there.

Sweet William and Indian paintbrush

still dot the dusty sand. 

All creatures pray

we humans will awaken from our sleep,

while there's still time enough

to heal the land.

Pelicans

Gary Crandall photo

In Utah, the Great Salt Lake is drying up; it is now one-third of what it was. This is devastating to the annual bird migration, millions of birds who depend on the lake for food and rest. They feed on brine shrimp and plants which can only survive in the water. Thus, millions of birds are now competing for the small area that remains. 83% of Utah is experiencing extreme drought. Scientists warn that as the lake recedes, it leaves behind a bed of toxic dust filled with arsenic, an environmental apocalypse.

State legislator Joel Ferry calls it "a potential environmental nuclear bomb." He says the area is at the precipice of environmental collapse. Water for humans will be gone by 2040 if nothing is done. But officials are reluctant to do anything,  placing the current needs of population growth and agriculture ahead of these dire warnings. Not very forward-looking, which seems to be one of human nature's most glaring faults.

Sigh. I grow weary. Yet as Brendan says, we must keep singing, like the canary in the mine.

for my prompt at earthweal : In the Wake of Progress,  based on the stunning photography of Edward Burtynsky.