Turbines

When we were at university we used to dance merrily in the wooden floored pub. Floaty, earth coloured fabric narrowly missed burning candles, cider spilled down raised arms and instruments were twiddled with theatrical glee.

We would chuckle at the boys doing renewable energy, predominantly curly haired and tall – and consisting of only one female – they worked hard, waiting for the down time to throw themselves into parties with unmatchable vigour. Like peacocks, their feathers splayed out, they sauntered and danced alive and free. Often still vibrant as the sun rose across the Cornish wild and beautiful landscape.

Rest of the column, here.

Fabulous Turbine video – the turbines are in Cornwall- by an old Falmouth chum; Duncan Kenning:

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