Another Day in the Country
Choosing change
© Another Day in the Country
It was a cloudy day Thursday in my home town.
As I drove out of Ramona, heading for Abilene and my exercise routine, I couldn’t help but notice those beautiful — yes, that was the word for them — stately, tall windmills on my horizon.
You’ll have to imagine it, unless of course you were driving on a quiet country road at 9 in the morning with clouds covering the sky.
These weren’t ordinary, float-on-by clouds. They were troubled clouds, heavy clouds, several shades of Payne’s gray.
If you aren’t an artist, unfamiliar with an artist’s color pallet, I’ll tell you that Payne’s gray is a dark, blue-black color — just the shades of gray you’ll see in a stormy Kansas sky with moisture in the air.
The windmills were still that morning — unmoving, refusing to add their momentum to this very windy day.
I must admit, when I first heard windmills were coming again to the Kansas prairie and that they were to be huge skyscraper edifices right out my front door, I was not amused. I could not imagine ever calling one of those imposing structures beautiful.
Ironic, because an employee of the wind energy consortium — whose job it was to inform farmers in the area regarding this unique investment opportunity — was renting our little Ramona House across the street from where I now live.
That rental income was quite a blessing to our low-income survival. The word “windfall” comes to mind.
At his first opportunity, he asked whether we had a little time for him to tell us about the potential for wind energy in Kansas.
As a girl who’d spent her early years on a farm in Kansas with a windmill in the front yard creaking away, I wondered what this upstart from the city could say that I didn’t already know.
Turns out, I did learn some things about this unharnessed energy source. I had to admit, since I’m such a fan of electric lights, that an elegant windmill is much more pleasant to look at than most other energy producers.
I listened, learned, and continue to learn through the years about wind energy’s potential. I also learned about the fierce doggedness of those against wind energy.
I do wonder whether that stubborn, entrenched opposition is actually landowners with the opportunity for potential income generated by this utility.
That controversy around wind energy in Marion County is pretty much over now.
Only time will tell, as it always does, who the winners and losers are — who was wise and who was foolish.
Those of us who are Scripture buffs can recall stories in the Bible about people who took chances — some wise, some foolish.
There are admonitions on a variety of subjects from “talents” to “young maidens” at a wedding party.
I had to chuckle to myself, as I recalled stories I teethed on as a child about opportunities missed.
In the story of the “talents,” the lesson was about foresight and taking chances — investing. At least that’s the way I interpreted the story.
With the wedding party, it was the willingness to hang in there, according to my way of remembering the story.
That’s one of the interesting things about good stories. They are pretty much able to be personally interpreted — including the ones I write.
One of the things that surprised me most about living in the country, with or without windmills, was peer pressure.
It is alive and well in parts of this parish. I used to think that pressure from peers was most troubling for kids — for teenagers, for instance, who are learning to find their way in adult life.
And then I came back to Ramona to visit and found peer pressure functioning in this town, actually in a positive way, because it kept lawns mowed and yards in a somewhat “acceptable” state.
Back in those days, you could hear a lawnmower start up on one side of town, and soon others could be heard.
It seemed to me as if no one wanted to have grass left standing when the rest were done.
In the days that have followed since I’ve lived here, I’ve missed the old timers who set the pace for what a town should look like.
Many a day I’ve wished for Mrs. Sondegaard to say, “Well, they should know better,” or Aunt Gertie to offer, as she watched Uncle Hank giving instruction to whomever was mowing the park, “He’ll set them straight.”
Change is always in the air, and even though we choose change, it still can be difficult to navigate.
As living beings, we adjust. I know I’ve come a long way since the day I first heard about the new order of windmills. I’ve adjusted, learning new appreciation for their beauty.
It’s another day in the country. Take a deep breath and give thanks for whatever change you’re experiencing today.