Pennine wind farms – at what cost to us?

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I’ve yet to be convinced that wind farms are of much use to the majority of us; rather that they mainly benefit those involved in the manufacture of turbines and landowners looking to make a quick and easy profit. Enormous turbines are springing up all around the Yorkshire Dales National Park with little regard to those like me who treasure the views and care for wildlife and the rural way of life. Although I now live in the Dales my childhood was spent in the West Riding and I still travel regularly to Huddersfield to pay homage to Yorkshire’s greatest football team. One of my favourite places in the town, after the John Smith’s Stadium, is Castle Hill and the Jubilee Tower. The 360 degree view from the top of the tower, even with its industrial aspects, is one to behold. For hundreds of years Castle Hill has provided for ordinary folk an escape from the mills and the daily grind. To me and most residents, the surrounding moorland is just as precious and personal as that of the Yorkshire Dales and North York Moors. The Pennines hills around Huddersfield offer beauty, solitude and drama which can’t be assessed in terms of pound coins. The number of wind farms appearing or planned for the region disturbs me greatly and I hope the local authority sees the deeper value in our countryside when considering wind farm applications.
Pics: above a view from Jubilee Tower; below, one of a crop of 93m turbines towering above grazing cows near Harrogate.

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Ode to Yorkshire

Let’s rejoice on Yorkshire Day
For all that Nature’s sent
From Flamborough Head and Caton Bay
to Malham Cove and Pen-y-ghent.
On Ilkley Moor and Pennine hills
North York Moors and Dales
the scenery forever thrills
and inspiration never fails.
So if depressed or all forlorn
get your thoughts in order
and thank the Lord that you weren’t born
on t’ other side o’ t’ border.

Happy Yorkshire Day

A Yorkshireman abroad

Packed the passport and translation guide; filled an emergency box with pies, Wensleydale cheese, Yorkshire puds and curd tarts; ferrets were caged up in t’ boot. I donned flat cap and keyed in sat nav details… for Dartmoor. A Yorkshireman ‘abroad’ can’t be careful enough. I’d heard t’ weather darn sarf could be fair to middlin’ this time o’ year so the remaining sun tan lotion from my last trip abroad (Majorca 1998) was deposited in the glove compartment. The drive gave me a numb bum. Couldn’t thoil service station prices so I drank my flask of tea and ate my Wensleydale and beetroot sandwiches with all the other Yorkshire folk leaning against their motors in the car park. I was fair capped when I got to Dartmoor – it’s almost the same as Yorkshire but not as grand. The Tors reminded me of Nidderdale around Brimham Rocks; the distant views of the North York Moors towards the coast; and the bleak, wild moors of the South Pennines above Holmfirth. Makes you wonder why I bothered doing a round trip of over 700 miles really. The folk there talk funny, not like us, but they’re friendly enough. So if you ever feel an odd urge to get out of our county without really leaving it, I can recommend heading for Dartmoor (but beware, there are some bloody strange spots in between). Oh, the weather was drizzly, misty and windy – just like in Yorkshire.

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