We’re in a field on the outskirts of South Brent in Devon. It’s a windy day and it’s hard to hear each other speak. Not that we’ve come here to converse: we’re here to listen. I’ve been asked to answer, for myself, the contentious contemporary koan, “What is the sound of three blades turning?” And the follow-up question, “Is it genuinely distressing?”
I’ve never understood the strength of resistance to wind turbines. No technology is perfect, but, well, it goes beyond reason. Of course there are vested interests, those who profit by fossil fuels, who’d have us understand that dead birds pile ...
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