Silent Wind
S I L E N T W I N D
I had driven many times past a myriad of huge, grey-white wind turbines strewn across the open farmland near where I live. And then one day, taking a road less travelled, I came upon a small, steepled country church and saw the turbines from a new perspective.
The scene, it seemed to me, was about the juxtaposition of modernity and antiquity; of furious, curious technological "progress" and the resulting demise of acres of fertile farmland. In the century-old graveyard beside the church the crosses on the tombstones echoed the shapes of the turbine blades reminding me, ridiculously, of the Monty Python tune from the last scene of the film, Life of Brian: "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life."
I had driven many times past a myriad of huge, grey-white wind turbines strewn across the open farmland near where I live. And then one day, taking a road less travelled, I came upon a small, steepled country church and saw the turbines from a new perspective.
The scene, it seemed to me, was about the juxtaposition of modernity and antiquity; of furious, curious technological "progress" and the resulting demise of acres of fertile farmland. In the century-old graveyard beside the church the crosses on the tombstones echoed the shapes of the turbine blades reminding me, ridiculously, of the Monty Python tune from the last scene of the film, Life of Brian: "Always Look on the Bright Side of Life."
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