Mrs Bard and I recently visited the North Wales coast. As we were being pushed along the promenade at Colwyn Bay in our bath chairs, Mrs Bard leaned over to me: “Hector?” (for that is genuinely my name), “What are those tall white things on the horizon? Why are they there? Do boats run into them?” I adjusted my monocle and could faintly see a windmill. As my eyes adjusted to the glare from the sea I realised I was looking at Nimby Hell. There seemed to be hundreds of turbines, as far as my poor eyes could see. I searched hurriedly, for an answer. “Those, my dear, are wind generators, they generate wind to cool the resort!” She must have liked my answer as she looked up to the sky and made the tutting sound I hear so often these days…
A short-sighted old salt called Joe,
Out to sea in his coaster did go.
He missed the pier,
Which from fog did appear,
But gave a turbine,
A glancing blow!
© Baldock Bard 2013
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