About the work

The wind turbine knows a secret about the sandstone. It is this: everything wears down. The wind that scours the bluffs, the rain that cuts new channels, the relentless sun — all of it is part of the same patient effort. The turbine is new to this work, a recent convert. Its blades spin not in defiance of the wind, but in a kind of slow, deliberate agreement with it, generating the small hum that the bluffs have known for aeons. It’s the concrete that feels out of place, so sharp-edged against the rounded rock, but even the concrete will eventually soften. The question is what will be left of the light pole, once all the paint is gone.