Took a trip to Antelope Island, the large island on the Salt Lake City side of the Great Salt Lake. To call it an oasis might be a stretch of the imagination, but it is an island of intrigue. Bison, deer, antelope, coyotes, elk, big horn sheep, all make a good living surrounded by a near dead body of water. And within sight of the reflected city lights from the 2-point something million people just across the short side of the lake.
The island is left undeveloped and undisturbed most of the time. Hardly any of the locals venture out despite the paved causeway. It’s even a State Park. In that way it’s an oasis of discovery, surrounded by a severe lack of interest. Other people’s loss,
I love to visit. We packed a picnic lunch and headed to the ranch. On the eastern side, towards the southern end is the well preserved remains of a working ranch. It operated for 133 years. Now it’s a treasure trove of how past generations lived and worked. Not really a museum but a self-guided walk through time, it makes me wish I could live there and see it in its “glory days”.
But there’s sadness too. In a pasture rusts three vehicles. Two trucks and one tractor. They each have seen better days and now just sit, day after day, season after season. Kids climb in and around them, photos are taken upon them, and very few people see much more than junk.
I love these vehicles and I wish I could take them home. I wish I could make them run again and fire them up. But their day is done. Their engines will no longer turn. They are now tombstones to their own forgotten past. But these guys can live on in the photos they star in and I’ll add to their tribute.