Time and motion: wind turbines add a twist to rural sounds

Langford: The blades were remarkably slender, with nothing much to catch the breeze, bent as if a gale had buckled them backwards

The other day, a small child cried “Oh, wow!” when our train drew alongside the wind turbines. Massive, gleaming white, they rose out of flat fields, each one an angel of the south with moving parts.

They are new features in so many old views: they appear as pale windmills from the high ridge, their blades slice through the clouds from my seat at the mill race, and, on still days, they sit beyond our potato fields as a collection of 10 stopped clocks.

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