When I heard about the new windmills, I resolved to take a look the next time I was in Michigan. Were they a noisy, ugly, menacing blight on the landscape? Or could they be interesting — attractive even? Read more.
Impermanence. It’s a helpful, if not always comfortable, idea: Everything changes. It just does. My Aunt Grace died last month. My son Peter will be married in May. And 56 wind turbines are now up and running on the pristine rural countryside near my father’s birthplace. Read more.