The wife and I have a favourite cycling route that takes us from our house to the edge of a large canal from where you can hop on to a ferry to a neighbouring town. Within fifteen minutes, you find yourself cycling on a smooth road lined with trees on either sides. Patches of grass run along the route. These days they are teeming with daisies. On a sunny day you can even spot a hare or two frolicking in the grass.
Tall and powerful wind turbines dot the route. They look benign, even soothing from a distance but are quite scary from up close. On a modestly windy day you can hear a menacing swoosh sound as the blades cut through the air. I don’t fancy being around one on a stormy day. The ride also takes us past a small power station that I presume processes all the electricity that the wind turbines generate. Its buildings are covered in graffiti and have a look of abandoned, industrial wasteland.
As the weather turns warmer, I have a feeling that we’ll find ourselves biking this route more often.