One year ago I heard about the annual Snow Geese Festival in Delta, Utah. The town sets aside a weekend to witness the annual migration of the snow geese from Mexico to Canada, making a stop in the fields and waters of this small town in Central Utah. Nature has it’s own schedule though, one that can not be set by man’s clock. I re-learned this truth whilst staring at empty lakeside beauty in the early morning, as the snow geese were nowhere to be found.

I did however, find other more recently lost treasures of our ever changing modern world. I muse for moment, then make the quick and spontaneous decision to slowly make my way back home through the dirt roads of Great Basin National Park, with a good portion along the Pony Express route of old.

Cars and people along this desolate stretch are replaced with the occasional pronghorn antelope and abandoned mines. I stumble upon a bird refuge called Fish Springs, and get my need of seeing the Snow Geese replaced with the observations of other species….mallards, cranes and Canadian geese.

Interspersed with bouts of high winds and blinding snowstorms, I find a new adventurous weekend from the one originally planned, making it all the better.

Wench, bring my ale, what say you?

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