Sunni Brown Wilkinson

In our old neighborhood on the east bench of Ogden, a city of about 87,000 nestled against the foothills of the Wasatch Mountains in northern Utah, nearly everyone we knew had a small garden. Pam, one street over from us, grew row after row of rhubarb. She’d call me each spring and tell me to come on over with some scissors and a big bag. Then I’d make rhubarb crumble and take her some. The crumble was my grandma’s recipe, and since Pam was an older woman, it made sense that she grew it.

For the thing which I greatly feared is come upon me, and that which I was afraid of is come unto me. Water the daisies. Watch the dirt turn dark with relief. Love the bees. Like you, they have names and middle names, memories, deaths. Open your hand to the tug and huff of toddlers, the macaroni on the table hardened to half-smiles, half-moons. Watch the fish rise from the lake of childhood. See how they're filled by the fruit of air. Refine stillness. Let the good milk spill.

Before this year’s Utah legislative session, I predicted that it wouldn’t be good, at least not in terms of environmental stewardship. Now that the session is over, let’s see if I was wrong: This year they passed 591 new bills, a state record. And the amazing news is that more than half of them were focused on restoring and protecting the Great Salt Lake! Just kidding. Zero were. . One aims to tighten some regulations on mineral extraction industries, hoping to better manage their water consumption.