A week or so ago, I made a mad dash up north for work. In the middle of Michigan's lower peninsula, there were miles of new windmills that weren't there one year ago. It was a windy day, so these quiet giants were turning in together in a huge dance over the flat landscape. White blades turning in the sun. Really quite beautiful.
The internet says that there are 133 windmills stretching over 4 townships. Gentle yet strong. They just make me smile.
On the way home later that evening, it was long after dark and I had forgotten about the windmills. At one point, I started seeing red flashing lights above the horizon. As I got closer, I could see many of these lights on the top of the windmill towers and they scattered over the countryside like a red flashing blanket. Of course, all of the red lights on the towers flashed in unison. It reminded me of a giant's dance, perhaps a dance for the Scottish Giant, Fingal. Or perhaps a signal to intelligent beings somewhere in space.
It's strange that these windmills seem so much more majestic than similar windmills out west where they are often mixed into mountain passes and brown country.
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