I (and family) have flown in and out of the Salt Lake City airport numerous times to visit our daughter’s family in Portland, Oregon.  Almost every flight to/from that airport the plane has flown over the Great Salt Lake.  I spend a lot of my flying time gazing out the window, and have been curious about “that island” which has a road and causeway to it (shown above, upper left).  It is the only island in the Lake which one can get to without getting wet.

Almost always when “the family” decides what to do for a given day, they NEVER do what I want to do.  However, when I suggested we visit the Island, they all went along.  It is a State Park, and scantily inhabited — by people, that is.  There are …

… numerous (some 700+) bison residing there.  About 100 or so years ago, someone decided to “save” some of the rapidly-disappearing species and re-located a couple dozen or so on this island.  They’ve done well …

The island was (allegedly?) named by early explorers (e.g., Kit Carson?) because of the pronghorn antelope which have been there long before the Caucasian invasion.  And …

There could be a wombat or two there.

We passed by this haggard decrepit human specimen, under the care of his grandson.

As part of my plan when visiting the Island, I have also wanted to wade IN the Lake!  Eddie and Henry slosh along behind me as we venture to a small mini-island some 50 yards or so further into the Lake.  The still-wintry Wasatch Range towers over everything, in addition to the watchful eyes of Grandma and Mom.

Ben George (Eddie & Henry’s dad) performs the headstand ritual.  This ritual, among other things, gives one a change of perspective.  (Yes, I’ve also wanted to do a headstand in the Lake).  Another bucket-list click …

Back home — an osprey spends the evening in our yard, perhaps waiting for one of our cats.

This 50-pound or so carp was inconsiderate enough to expire on our portion of the neighborhood pond.  Had I not extricated it, it would have blocked the pond-outlet, and no telling what other malodorous malfeasance would have ensued.

Jake shows everyone how to really get into relaxation mode.  His companion, one of the yard inukshuks, is already relaxed …

Jake, JaJa, and Rocksea pose in the shade of the Cactus Park Arch.  I have been exploring this semi-remote part of Mesa County (Colorawdough), adjoining the Dominguez Wilderness, for years and only noticed this feature recently.  Maybe a quarter-mile west of the road ~

Looking east back through the Arch, down into Cactus Park.

Balanced rocks and stuff nearby.

A good heart-rock specimen, eh?  Note my feet — obviously I left it as is, and doubt if I’d be able to stumble upon it again.