WIND FARM - by Elizabeth Roberts

"the real issue was one of visual perception which was in the eye of the beholder"
(report in Lanark and Carluke Advertiser, 15 November 1995)

I shall lift up mine eyes unto the hills
Whence cometh a whistling kettle whine
Bad for sheep's nerves and even worse for mine
Not only the dotterel, but the dunlin will take fright
Whaups* whuppit, ouzel wasted, plovers put to flight,
Woodcock and wandering whippoorwhills.

"A scheme to harvest natural resources"
Says ducal factor Waugh
High as a steeple upon Roger Law**
Sixteen turbines crying in the rain,
Four dozen arms outstretched in pain
Fell crucifixion! Gallows forces!

Quixotic, don't you think
To turn this vasty grass terrain
Where people come their sanity to gain
Into a calvary? In vain
The solace-starved will search. Buccleuch !
This hill-beholder has got news for you.

These giant, gentle slopes will rise in rage
Rending their green-gold sides in twa;
A hurricane of wrath will blaw
Your howling lances from the earth.
Then birds will soar and sing with mirth,
For peace restored, infinity assuaged.

* curlews
** a peak on the Buccleuch Estate in the Southern Uplands of Scotland

© Elizabeth Roberts 1995