A couple of days ago, we looked out of the kitchen window to watch the dawn leaking across the sky from the horizon, and noticed movement. Lots of movement. Fourteen of the newly built wind turbines were functioning.
Having followed the development of the ‘parc des éoliennes’ over the last 9 months, we were excited to see this baby of renewable energy drawing its first breaths. It’s strange how quickly we have become accustomed to the sight of the new turbines on the hill. The majesty of the current development makes the original row of eight turbines seem insignificant by comparison. But to see them moving adds altogether another dimension to the experience.
It is hard not to imbue the turbines with animate characteristics. They seem so alive. And having stood directly beneath one in full flow, it’s impossible not to be struck by the sheer power and scale of them. Hearing the wind churning in their wings above you is not unlike the experience of sitting next to a huge waterfall. The sound they emit is the sound of wind against solid strength, somehow they feel organic.
It is therefore surprising how little they can be heard from the village. We’ve always noticed how a change in atmospheric conditions can affect the sounds as well as the appearance of the valley. Things always sound different at night, or first thing in the morning. Standing out on our terrace on a cool night, when all the creatures are quiet, and everything in the valley is hushed and still, you can sometimes hear the distant pulsing shhwuumm, shhwuum of the turbines.
It sounds like the beating heart of the hills.
