The power of history

While walking my dog in the fens yesterday, I saw a windmill, some miles away on the horizon.

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That wasn’t unusual around here.

But its sails were turning, and that was.

I set out on a search, and found it in the little village of Wicken, where Dave, Mary Ellen and Alan kindly showed me around.

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It was a thoroughly inspiring visit – a beautiful sunny day with lots of wind, and as I climbed higher and higher, the whole building thrummed, almost purred, with an energy that rose and fell with the gusts.

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I also captured some quick footage on my iPhone.

(Also on Vimeo here).

Definitely recommended if you’re in the area when it’s open – usually the first weekend of the month.

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2 Comments

Very nice. Do they grind actual flour, and if so have you baked any bread from it yet?

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