SouthWest flight from El Paso home, out the left side of the of the plane, the wind fields of west Texas. I can almost recite the route, in reverse.
First is the sand dunes of Monahans, Monahans State Park, motto? “Surf West Texas.” I can’t even make this stuff up.
Then it’s the oil patch, basically, the Permian Basin, Midland and Odessa. Stark plains’ and oil wells everywhere, clearly visible.
Finally, the wind farm. Farms. Hardly more than thin, white shards against the various shades of brown desert, the giant windmills – probably – slowly spinning.
“I recall,” and “I remember….” when the windmills weren’t there. That’s new. Late last summer, I was driving the rent car back, threading that very route, oil wells on one side, windmills idly spinning in the summer breezes.