Insomnia

 I’ve had trouble sleeping the last couple of nights, which is very unusual for me. My normal state is that I can sleep anywhere through anything. This is a good trait, because with Grant snoring like a jet, perhaps a F35 fighter, on one side of me, and Annie doing little kitty purrs on the other, I’d never get any sleep if the noises bothered me. I know when I can’t sleep, there is something going on in my brain that keeps me awake and listening to my bedmates.

At first, I blamed it on jet lag, since we’d just visited Spaulding and Molly in Salt Lake City for 6 days, but then I realized that was the wrong way for time change. I was just awake, thinking about all the work I want to do in the yard and house. Weeding, planting more vegetables, needing to decide which vegetables to plant where, how I want the safe installed, whether or not to buy more shelving for the garage, etc. Not obsessing, just excited about what’s on my plate.

While we were in Utah, sleeping was not a problem. Their house is at about 5,000 feet above sea level, with a steep driveway, stairs up to their front door, then a half flight up to the living room and bedrooms. Just getting to our bed was more hiking than we’ve done in a year. Out their back gate is access to the rough of a golf course, and with about 20’ climb in elevation through scrub, we could walk along the fairway and see fabulous views of the whole valley. Every evening, after the last golfers have played through, they take granddog Emma for a long walk there. (She is no longer allowed to roam off-lead after she led Spaulding on a 3-mile run, chasing a deer. She evidently had more fun than he did.)

Spaulding was our tour guide for downtown Salt Lake City. I’d been there in the mid-1950’s, and vaguely remembered it as a park -filled city center. Now it’s filled with huge Church of the Later Day Saints buildings and a beautiful open air mall with all the usual upscale stores. The temple was being completely refurbished, so fences surrounded that construction site. We did go into the tabernacle, where a young woman asked me if I’d been there before. Yes, I said, but before you and your mother were born; later I realized, it was likely more accurate to say, before her grandmother. When did I get so old?

We drove to Antelope Island, seeing bison, pronghorns, mule deer, and a coyote. There were thousands of American avocets and other shore birds. I wished I’d brought my scope. I though the same thing when Grant and I went to Bear River Migratory Bird Refuge after dropping Spaulding at work and borrowing his truck. On the lake were hundreds of Western grebes, including many still in their downy phase, which I could see with my binoculars, but past a dike, which I think we could have walked on, there were thousands of shore birds just too far away for me to identify. I definitely need to buy a case for the scope, so it can travel with us.

Hunting had opened up on the refuge a couple of days before, but according to the signs, the hundreds of thousands of migrating ducks and geese wouldn’t be flying through until mid-October. We chatted with hunters who’d shot 2 Canada geese, and with others who hadn’t seen any. Seems to me like an awful lot of sitting out in swarms of mosquitoes with expensive guns and gear for little return, however they might say the same thing about my birding.

Saturday we drove through Little Cottonwood Canyon, to walk the boardwalk around Silver Lake. (Our children seem to think we are more fragile than I do, so no hikes up mountains for us. They’re probably right.) Aspen dutifully quaked their golden leaves, other trees had changed to red, contrasting magnificently against the dark green cedars. Just cool enough to be a comfortable walk, and no mosquitoes. We didn’t see beavers, although there were several dams, and the ranger confirmed at least 15 lived out in the lake and big watery marsh surrounding it. She said they were not particularly wary of people, which means I plan to come earlier in the morning the next time we visit.

On the way home, we stopped in Park City, had a drink at the No Name Saloon, in honor of all the drinks we’ve had at the No Name Pub on Long Key. Grant and I walked the rest of Park City, downhill, while Spaulding and Molly walked back uphill to the truck. They picked us up at the bottom of the town. When we got back to their house, we still had to hike up to our room. I had no problem sleeping that night.