Windy
Last weekend I had a chance to stroll across a field, towards four huge wind turbines. As a child I had visited one of the last working (old style) windmills in the country and had happy memories of the event. This was quite different.
As I got closer a strange, creepy feeling overtook me. Not for long, but long enough to make the point that these were truly massive, dangerous things (although to be fair, not that dangerous unless one fell over or I was thirty feet tall). Soon the trepidation was replaced with awe as I craned my neck to look up at the hub. Finally, and more memorably, I was dive bombed by a pee-wit and started to feel I was in an early 1970s science-fiction movie. One with no people but a bemused hero, wandering through an alien landscape, looking for a sign of living breathing humanity.
When I got back to the car I found the pee-wit had pooped on it and everything returned to normal.
As I got closer a strange, creepy feeling overtook me. Not for long, but long enough to make the point that these were truly massive, dangerous things (although to be fair, not that dangerous unless one fell over or I was thirty feet tall). Soon the trepidation was replaced with awe as I craned my neck to look up at the hub. Finally, and more memorably, I was dive bombed by a pee-wit and started to feel I was in an early 1970s science-fiction movie. One with no people but a bemused hero, wandering through an alien landscape, looking for a sign of living breathing humanity.
When I got back to the car I found the pee-wit had pooped on it and everything returned to normal.
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