I pass by power lines on one of my routes. The swaying grasses, golden in the morning sun, often beckon to me. The towers, oddly beautiful in an Eiffel Tower sort of way, punctuate the field beyond.
Reminded of a book by the author Terry Kay, titled The Year the Lights Came On, about both a community getting electricity for the first time and a boy on the cusp of puberty, I wonder if perhaps this will be the year the lights came on for us as a society. About power. About the misuse of that power. And about the power of alternative ways forward.