There’s nothing like some morning sunshine and a glimpse of
blue sky to raise my spirits and wake up some dormant energy. At least, enough
energy to leave the warmth of the sick-bed and wander downstairs to flop,
exhausted, on to the comforts of the rocking chair in the window, next to the
radiator.From here I can spend an hour
or so pondering over what to do next and grumbling about why Radio 2 is playing
so much ‘music’ more suited to Radio 1 or is it me? I suspect it is the choices
of the chirpy young lady DJ covering for someone. I think I’m starting to feel
better.
The last couple of weeks have passed me by as I have drifted
from one illness to another, or perhaps it is different stages of the same
thing. ‘Flu, pain, dizziness, rash, fatigue, blurred vision…I’ve got it or just
had it and it might come back. Any medics reading this feel free to diagnose
and tell me how much longer I need to rest.
During my alert moments,I’ve really got into ‘Peaky Blinders’, something I’d promised myself was
too good to miss and I’d never seen it. I’m making up for it now, but not last
thing at night, bad dreams. And while I’m wide awake and can literally focus, I’ve
been trying to plan a holiday for the summer and possibly a little Spring
break.
We’ll be off to Scotland, of course, but other places are
very worthy of a visit and a short break somewhere closer would be nice. I’ve
looked at so many cottages, shepherd huts, lodges and hidden B&Bs that they
are all lining up to greet me as soon as I check emails or social media. One
thing that struck the cynical side of me, as I fell in love with unspoilt
countryside landscapes used to advertise the properties, was, what if the
lovely view isn’t real? What if there’s an army of wind turbines in the way? I’m
probably over-thinking and over-worrying as I’m prone to do, but our chosen
place for a summer holiday is North East Scotland and the Orkney Isles. Lots of
wind farm dots on the map, but not a single blade or paddle on any promo
photos. I’ll have to let you know. I understand the green energy bit, but I
still think they are ugly things that spoil the countryside and it’s a shame
they can’t be built from something transparent or less noticeable, if we’ve got
to have them at all.
Well, wind farms or no wind farms, I expect to go back to
work in a few days, after a few more episodes of ‘Peaky Blinders’ can set me up
to face the outside world.
I found the perfect poem.
Windfarms by
Malcolm Mackellar
I too, love a sunburnt country,
And I love its sweeping plains.
I can tolerate our years of drought,
And our destructive flooding rains,
But I hate the sight of wind farms,
That in our rural lands abound.
I hate their jerking, twitching arms,
And their swishing, hissing sound.
I hate the way they blight our view,
Of our once proud fertile soil.
I hate their ghastly ghostly hue,
Where farmers used to toil.
I hate the endless sleepless nights,
And the headaches that they bring.
I hate the ugly metal sites,
Which used to bloom in spring.
And instead of trees and fields and flowers,
And clear blue open sky,
We see slicing blades and tall white towers,
Where eagles used to fly.
So take these monstrous things somewhere,
And build them far away,
Where our deserts have more room to share,
And the wind blows every day.
Thanks for reading, Pam x
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