What I’m remembering this Memorial Day Weekend is how blue the skies were back in the Fifties when I spent a lot of time lying on my back in the grass gazing upward. This was before Utah Power & Light decided to outsource its coal-fired power plant from the city to the country, thus introducing the first industrial smokestacks to Carbon County. That plant has since been replaced by much larger coal-fired generating plants in Emery and Millard counties. Why? Well, because folks living in far more populous areas would prefer not to inhale smoke.
I’m now one of those people, and I’m pleased to report that in recent weeks the skies over Salt Lake City have been clear and blue as I remember them from my rural boyhood—thanks to the fact many fewer fossil-fueled cars are on the road and hardly any jetliner contrails crosshatching the firmament. Like most of my neighbors, I’ve been sheltering in place, spending hours on end lying in my hammock, watching birds and quaking aspen leaves. The economy has tanked, but I’m here to tell you the birds and squirrels that abound in my backyard are doing quite well. It’s heartening to realize just how quickly this planet would heal if humans would just stop what they’ve been doing since the dawn of the industrial revolution.
But how? Not all of us can afford to spend our days just lying in a hammock. As my mother used to say whenever she caught me lazing on the lawn, “We all have to work. What makes you think you’re any different?”
Good question, and I’ve yet to come up with a good answer. All I know is, from the standpoint of Mother Nature, the past few weeks have provided a breath of fresh air. Drawn through a surgical facemask, but nonetheless, fresh.
