The Wind Farm

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.

5 thoughts on “The Wind Farm

  1. 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!

  2. 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.

Comments are closed.