I’m glad my dad warned me about it, because if I’d just come out of Gibson City and seen it with no warning, I would have had an accident. But you round a corner and there, spread out as far as Bloomington, are miles and miles of windmills, enormous windmills with three long spiky arms, turning over and over and over themselves, like a poem or a prayer or a breeze just a little higher up than me.
It was like driving through some kind of avant-garde forest, silver suggestions of trees.
I should have taken a picture. I will try to get back over there and take a picture.
Those must be new. I used to drive that stretch a lot and they didn’t used to be there.
I drove that stretch just two years ago and they weren’t there.
Here’s a story from the Pantagraph.
http://www.tcstyle.com/thegallery/gallery-0107.shtml
Switch off the mind and let the heart decide
who you were meant to be
flick to remote and let the body glide
there is no enemy!
etch out a future of your own design
well tailored to your needs
then fan the flame and keep the dream alive
of a continent
a continent a continent a continent a-
there is no enemy!
.
people think they’re an eyesore, but I think they’re gorgeous.
So do I.
Wind farms are being put up around this country and others as fast as possible. The limiting factor is the global supply of turbines — if more wind turbines were available, they’d be appearing even faster.