Windmill

 

 

April 5, 2021

 Greetings from the strange land,

 When I was a young person, I read a fair bit of science fiction, including ‘War of the Worlds’ by H.G. Wells.  On the cover was a simplistic illustration of alien ships on spindly legs, seeking to conquer the panicked Earthlings in their path.  That’s what I thought of.

 I was driving through a part of my state that is famous for very little, other than perhaps sugar beets.  It is flat, and where it is not flat, it is somehow flatter.  It’s wide open, I suppose to give the sugar beets room to graze, and you can literally see for miles in any direction.

 So, it was easy to spot the first windmill.  Just to be clear, this is not one of the Dutch inspired replicas for which another part of Michigan is famous.  This is the high tech giant, nearly terrifying in its towering height, looming over the land.

 I had the same reaction I always have, which out loud was: “Wow.”  I know, it’s an inspired expression, obviously well thought out and rooted in a deep consideration of what I was seeing.  After all, I’m a writer so this kind of genius commentary is usually on the tip of my tongue.

 It’s hard not to be amazed.  These things are enormous, and when you get close you realize they are enormouser than you thought.  There is something bizarre about the incongruity, this plain, simple farmland, with few trees to interrupt the view, and then suddenly a 500 foot tall machine.

 And I had this flashback to the cover of a book I read more than five decades ago.  “Wow.” I said.  And then I tried to remember if I ever took it back to the library.  Hmm.

 It did look like the windmill had conquered Earth.  There was nothing around it but hard packed dirt.  I had a fleeting thought that somehow the sugar beets create wind and that’s why they built wind farms in this part of the state.  It was just thought; I’m a writer, not a scientist.

 From time to time, I will see large trucks on the road, carrying the blades of the wind turbines, and it’s almost as unsettling as seeing the monsters towering in the fields.  I sometimes imagine that these are the tusks of wind machines that have been hunted down and captured by the rebellious faction of humans. 

 As I drove across the farmland the number of windmills grew, and then there were more, and before long they were everywhere.  One giant machine lording over the world is unsettling.  Scores of them, for miles an all directions, inspires a whole other set of feelings.

 After a while I pulled over on the shoulder of the tired dirt road I was on and just looked at them, bouquets of windmills, scattered across the horizon for as far as I could see. The movement is hypnotic; the ceaseless sweep of the blades, not quite in synch with one another, all of them driven by an invisible conductor. 

 I know there are people who object to these titans.  They say they are an eyesore, or they hurt birds, or they give off a vibration, or flicker the light.  I tried to sense those things, wonder what it would be like to live with this presence filling the flat world.  I don’t know if I would like them in my backyard, but as I sat there, I was carried away by their unique presence.  It was a beauty of sorts, as hard is that may be to feel.

 I had this impression of ballerinas, all in en pointe position, their arms performing a strange pirouette.  They were graceful, these long pointed wings whirling in front of them, elegant and yet powerful.   The longer I sat watching, the less I felt like leaving.  It was mesmerizing.

 Maybe it was the hypnotic cadence of the blades, but in only a few minutes I felt this ease, which was so different from the jarring feeling I had when I saw the first wind turbine.  It just flowed over me as if I were seeing an art installation, something that intrigued and inspired. 

 It might be that this kind of beauty exists in all things, even outlandish mechanical devices.  When I turned to leave the last of the windmills behind, I felt curious about what other pieces of art were scattered along the roads I travelled.  It really made a difference in how I made my way back out of the flat land, into the other world I normally inhabit.  It took a little longer to get back, but it was worth it.

 Hope this finds you inspired,

 

David