On an early spring morning in mid-March, near the Summit County Justice Center, I was reminded of a similar time and day years ago. Maybe it was the Basin’s gray morning light or the natural quiet without traffic that prodded a distant memory. While Summit County was on the social media map of global court watchers, I planned to secure a courtroom seat in moral support for my friend, private investigator Todd Gabler. He had arrived in Utah to testify for the prosecution in the Kouri Richins murder trial. Those of us living in the Wasatch Back long enough may remember another day when Gabler took a stand for truth and justice. It was nearly 40 years ago on March 27, 1992. Unrestrained and rapid growth was a Summit County hallmark in the 1990s. Many community members opposed the urban development of open space. A concern prompting me and Gabler to run for a Park City Council seat in 1991. Back then our rendezvous took place in a sweet, ranch land meadow in Snyderville Basin during the chilly, wet time in early spring known as mud season. A giant steel shovel, grounded, tilted and disengaged marked the spot where shortly before dawn, Gabler chained and padlocked himself to a backhoe. Summit County commissioners had approved construction for a K-Mart, our county’s first big box retailer, designed as a 109,000-square-foot store. The adjoining parking lot was sized to hold 800 cars. The project was destined for the east side of S.R. 224 at Kimball Junction, Park City’s rural entryway. Excavation and industrial-sized development would eventually destroy this piece of agricultural open space and wildlife habitat. “The premise here is that all reasonable alternatives have been exhausted,” said Gabler, whose protest vigil started in a freezing rain about 3 a.m. on a Friday. “There is an imminent threat to the meadow and to the citizens of the county. By my actions, I hope to stop an irreversible harm. The meadow’s stark beauty was sufficient reason for preservation.” (Deseret News, March 27, 1992) When I met Gabler at daybreak with a thermos of hot coffee and a half-dozen sugar doughnuts, what I vividly remember from that long ago morning was the lyrical song of a Western meadowlark (Sturnella neglecta). Known as “larks” due to their melodic trills, though only male meadowlarks sing, the birds are actually part of the New World blackbird family. Not larks at all. Western and Eastern meadowlarks thrive across North America in healthy prairie ecosystems — grasslands, prairies and open fields. While Western meadowlarks have expansive home ranges, they are sensitive to the loss, fragmentation and degradation of grassland habitat. We sat together for a time, two comrades in a symbolic act of defiance, bonded by a lonely Western landscape. After awhile, a warming sun lifted the meadow’s dewey moisture and our spirits. We watched as the hazy morning fog disappeared in the east. Gabler’s chain-yourself-to-a-backhoe protest was unsuccessful. The right fight at the right time, lost. Destruction of open pasture and the avian home for Western meadowlarks, sandhill cranes and native raptors like red-tail hawks and prairie falcons was sacrificed for modern conveniences. So now we have a legacy of financial gain, pot-holed parking lots and traffic. Exactly 40 years later I perch on the high crest of Midway’s Memorial Hill. Looking eastward, my view is of another pastoral landscape, the North Fields of Heber Valley. A refreshing north wind sweeps across the meadows and skims my red cheeks. I can see the outlines of the Provo River gracefully coursing in pastures far below. For now, Western meadowlarks still sing, red-tail hawks prey on field mice and baby raccoons fish in the field’s irrigation ditches. Cows, bulls and calves still graze in lush pastures. Like the once bucolic land under Kimball Junction, the North Fields are at risk. The Utah Department of Transportation wants to build a highway through the North Fields. One justification for rerouting U.S. 40 with its proposed Heber Valley Corridor, Bypass Alternative B is saving 70 seconds of travel time through Heber. If approved, this bypass would destroy a treasure trove of rural qualities — scenic vistas, historic farms and ranch lands, wildlife corridors, wetlands and high quality aquifers. Conscientious locals aren’t having any of it. The community shares a passionate sense of place. They attend public hearings, write letters and recently staged an on-site protest. Their tractor-cade was a North Fields procession of family pickup trucks, farm tractors, horse-drawn wagons, ATVs and folks waving signs and ringing cow bells. A true demonstration of civic pride. Win, lose or draw, fighting for preservation and ecological justice is heroic on any day in any decade. Perhaps this time around, Utah and Wasatch County leaders will listen to citizens’ well reasoned calls and prevent irreversible harm to the North Fields. Finally, our protests won’t be in vain and a meadowlark’s song can be more than a distant memory. “How we spend our days is of course how we spend our lives.” — Annie Dillard Leslie Miller is the co-editor of “Reimagining A Place for the Wild” and a former, long-time resident of Park City who now lives in Midway.  The post Wild Seeing: Remembering a Western meadow lark appeared first on Park Record. ...read more read less