If you think you've just discovered a long-lost Rothko, chalk it up to the altitude. But if you insist that those are Twombly scrawls in this tableau's lower quadrant, then you really are seeing things. You're flying over what is in fact soupy pools of organic matter-algae, bacteria, and plankton. You can expect more of an intro to chemistry and biology when you land than an from the series Terminal Mirage
by David Maisel;
maiselstudio.com[abstract-art history lesson]. Just beware of any industrial toxins that might be released in the extraction of magnesium, sodium, and potassium.

You are at the edge of a lake that Richard Burton (he of Lake Victoria, not of Elizabeth Taylor, fame) called "that inland briny sea, which apparently has no business there." The explorer 1860[arrived too early], for by the 1890s developers had erected a fanciful Saltair[Moorish-meets-Orthodox resort] on the shore, one with a pier, bathhouses, dance floors, and a Coney Island vibe. Business boomed for decades, proving that while the lake's condition may be terminal, it's never dire. By the 1960s, in the words of one local scientist, this "fascinating pond" was treated as "a nuisance, a sewer, a big hole," but today visitors come to lose themselves in the stillness of its Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge;
fws.gov/bearriver[115-square-mile bird refuge], with more than two hundred migrant species. You can camp on Antelope Island;
utah.com/stateparks/antelope_island.htm[an
island] named for a swift bovid, where more sedentary hoofed species such as bison, bighorn, and elk graze. You can hike and bike the isle's trails, kayak its waters, or launch a sailboat from its marina. Vamos a la playa might be more of an ancient geologic reference than an exhortation to hit the beach here, but grab a bucket and collect the oolites[odd sand grains] that resemble tiny Tic Tacs and are formed in part by a creature with the euphonious scientific name of Artemia. Should you fly to the opposite shore, you would find a renowned work of SPIRAL JETTY; Rozel Point, 1970; robertsmithson.com[earth-art that spirals 1,500 feet out into
the lake] (its 6,500 tons of basalt recently reemerged when the waters receded from their historic high level mark).

For many years, a Tooele[massive weapons depot] has left scars near this, the southern shore. Yet as the landscape below illustrates, stunning beauty can be coaxed out of the harshest environment. And maybe hope, too: That vibrant red is the product of Halophiles[salt-loving microbes] which scientists hope will one day help clean up the planet. Nothing abstract about that.

For more, see Friends of Great Salt Lake