I find myself recently often marvel at how ordinary sights or moments can transport me back to a distant past and a faint but familiar mood. Is that the mark time has left us with? 😊
And this beautiful writing of yours did just that to me … Thanks for sharing!
I remember when we were in Mainland America, on road trips, and for this child, born and raised in Hawaii, seeing these awesome giants nestled in valleys and across great stretches of land, left me in speechless wonder. In high school, I fell in love with poetry, particularly, Carl Sandburg's Chicago, and this idea that you could create a poem about something as mundane (and even ugly) as a factory. Thanks, Jeffrey, for another walk down memory lane!
Thanks for sharing those great memories, Lani! I'm glad to hear you were also impressed by pylons (I imagine the scale was bigger in the US mainland, compared to the UK, too).
The pylons near where I grew up were shaped like cat heads, unfortunately I can't post a photo. The top had a broad face and ears and sometimes people would add eyes and even whiskers-how I can't imagine, given the high voltage. I thought them very friendly., your thoughts are much more elegant and expansive. As I googled for photos to confirm my memories, I saw so many variations. As always, a delightful excursion with you in our common language.
Good morning from Tokyo, Maureen! I wonder, though, if poets will have turned their attention away from infrastructure and into the digital or biotech realms.
In the family lexicon of my childhood, pylons were ‘pythons’. They were one of the things my sister and I looked out for on car journeys. My sister who was always prone to malapropisms, would shriek ‘Pythons!!’ from the back seat of our old Hillman every time she saw them. Wot larx .
Thanks for sharing this, Liz. Family lexicons can be a lot of fun, can't they? My elder brothers used to talk of “a-thing-with-a-tail-not-quite-at-the-end” in hushed tones. It turned out to be a kind of caterpillar.
Fabulous essay Jeffrey. I love how you lead us from pylons to poetry. Never in my mind had these two met until today! And while I can appreciate poets of our past revering the newness of these massive “cathedrals”, (and even more the way the set your youthful heart afire with a desire to travel) I’ll rest easy in a forest with Thomas’ “parables of sunlight” any day. 😊
Thank you, Kimberly! It’s always a thrill to get this kind of feedback from you! And yes, the line from Thomas is worth quoting again and again. It’s the kind of phrase that conjures an earthly paradise.
Hi Jeffrey, I don't know when the last time you drove up the M5 was, but about 3-4 years ago the huge pylons between Weston Super Mare and Bristol were replaced by eco-friendlier small ones. They look more like ski-lift pylons now.
The very first time I gazed from the windows of this rambling French farmhouse to cast my eye across its panoramic views of far hills, I sighed to my husband, 'if only the pylons could have been more aesthetically placed' however, they didn't deter us from signing the paperwork. In the almost 20 years since, I have grown to love their majestic race across the hills, photographed them often even - in effect, they have become part of the poetry of my hill.
On a sadder note, I can never think of pylons without recalling a day in assembly, I must have been about 13 I think, when the headmaster stood, with a choked voice, telling us of the death of one of the students who had climbed a pylon as a dare. I don't think the entire school had ever been as silent as we were in those few minutes.
I have had a fearful respect since.
Jeffrey this is a resonantly beautiful essay - thank you for sharing.
PS Did you ever hear of the Choi and Shine architects project to transform electrical pylons into statues on the Icelandic landscape? I'm sure you have but just in case here is the link - the idea is breathtaking though I'm not certain it was ever constructed, maybe you do?
Thank you for sharing those memories, Susie. I'm so sorry to hear about that poor boy... I hadn't heard about the Choi and Shine project. It's beautiful! Thank you so much for sharing it!
My first thought was of Derek Jarman's Prospect Cottage and the view of the Dungeness Nuclear Power Plant - another nuclear plant features in the book "Annihilation" - these monuments of electricity. Always giving us the different perspective, Jeffrey!
Wind turbine poets! Now, there’s an idea. This essay reminds me how fresh and even beautiful familiar the most utilitarian things can be when seen by a kid—or a poet.
I surprised the imagination of the "pylon poets". Pylons are so mundane for we Japanese that we couldn't consider carefully. But, I am interested in the structures as constructions. I like utility poles lined up in the towns much more rather than pylons.
I grew up listening to Flanders and Swann. 'The Slow Train's was about the loss of those locals train lines. Rural Canada lost its local lines too - now many of them are hiking trails.
Growing up in a rural area, we just had the 'telephone' poles, as we called the 20 ft poles carrying both hydro (electricity) lines and telephone cables, running down one side of every rural road. My grandparents lived near the Great Lakes, where there were both nuclear power stations and the great hydroelectric dam at Niagara. On the route to their house, I quickly learned we were close whenever I saw the aerial river of enormous pylons and hydro lines, cutting diagonally through farmers' fields, towering over forest trees, and bridging the road we were driving on. In 1998, a terrible ice storm in April in the Great Lakes region coated the hydro wires with ice until the weight crumpled those great steel pylons into weird shapes, leaving many without power for days in freezing temperatures. Those steel structures were not as powerful as they looked.
Now, on a clear day, I can look from my window across miles of field, forest and lake to a high ridge where wind turbines stand. There was great controversy over those turbines. A nearby Buddhist meditation centre was concerned they would disturb the peace. A rare tree that grew on the land was being cut down. They were put up anyway. The ironic part? The province already produces too much power - the excess is sold to the U.S. Indeed,uch of the north eastern seaboard of the U.S. is supplied by Canadian power. We have so watercourses to put dams, which is why we call electricity hydro.
Thank you for sharing that rich reflection, Holly. The 1998 ice storm must have been really disruptive. But perhaps the effect on the pylons would have been weirdly beautiful, too? To hear about the wind turbines being put put up like that makes it sound like profit and not the environment was the main motivation.
When I lived in Vietnam, I found the pylons and the general infrastructure of getting power to and from places fascinating! Masses and masses of cables bunched together in knots stretched across buildings and roads. Thoroughly dangerous, especially for the person trying to find the cable for a particular building if there was an essay (I would imagine)! Quite the sight but I quite enjoyed photographing them!
Such a part of the British landscape, Jeffrey, as you say. I was terrified of going anywhere near them, because of the public information film about the boy getting electrocuted retrieving his kite!
They do ruin the landscape atmosphere and yet again add some industrial aggressiveness. I think it's the word of the month for me, industrialist. Keep going back to it. But we need electricity to do so many things. I like that you refer to them as humming but I find it that whenever I hear those sounds from the wires and pylons that they give away some heavy duty string instrument that needs tuning. It's an unpleasant sound for me. As for wind turbine poets, didn't Thomas Dolby have a song about Wind Power. I think he swears by them. Don't let me get started on those. Planted in the sea and the soil and then it disturbs sea life, and you cannot use the soil they stand on either. Whether pylons or turbines they stand there bare and I have my qualms about them both.
Thank you! I must look up that Dolby song. I guess in terms of renewables, I like solar panels the most. Quiet and the arrays of panels can be quite beautiful.
Well so did I… until I started researching on to them. I’ve seen fertile soil and ground in south Europe, filled with the monstrosities of these solar powered blocks of black that stop land from being farmed and raise the temperature in the area. Crazy… less food as is and with these propped on farmland even less food. So I have my doubts on that. The song is way back from the 80s I think.
I knew the grouping of Spender, Auden, Day-Lewis, and MacNeice but did not know they were known as the pylon poets, nor, needless to say, why. Always an education!
One of my regrets regarding the "one-life rule" (you can look it up -- somewhere) is that I'll never have a childhood growing up in the English countryside.
Most to the point, this especially resonates with me today, after having reviewed last night an older essay I plan to rerun soon that begins with my own surprising, early "pathways or routes into faraway lands." Whatever can conjure the far away and ways to get there.
I find myself recently often marvel at how ordinary sights or moments can transport me back to a distant past and a faint but familiar mood. Is that the mark time has left us with? 😊
And this beautiful writing of yours did just that to me … Thanks for sharing!
Thank you, Yi. Yes, I suspect it's one of time's little tricks, worked out in collusion with our minds. 🙂
I remember when we were in Mainland America, on road trips, and for this child, born and raised in Hawaii, seeing these awesome giants nestled in valleys and across great stretches of land, left me in speechless wonder. In high school, I fell in love with poetry, particularly, Carl Sandburg's Chicago, and this idea that you could create a poem about something as mundane (and even ugly) as a factory. Thanks, Jeffrey, for another walk down memory lane!
Thanks for sharing those great memories, Lani! I'm glad to hear you were also impressed by pylons (I imagine the scale was bigger in the US mainland, compared to the UK, too).
The pylons near where I grew up were shaped like cat heads, unfortunately I can't post a photo. The top had a broad face and ears and sometimes people would add eyes and even whiskers-how I can't imagine, given the high voltage. I thought them very friendly., your thoughts are much more elegant and expansive. As I googled for photos to confirm my memories, I saw so many variations. As always, a delightful excursion with you in our common language.
Thank you, Leslie! Cat-like pylons! I must look them up. I think they'd be popular in Japan.
Turbine poets sound so hopeful! Good morning Jeffrey.
Good morning from Tokyo, Maureen! I wonder, though, if poets will have turned their attention away from infrastructure and into the digital or biotech realms.
In the family lexicon of my childhood, pylons were ‘pythons’. They were one of the things my sister and I looked out for on car journeys. My sister who was always prone to malapropisms, would shriek ‘Pythons!!’ from the back seat of our old Hillman every time she saw them. Wot larx .
Thanks for sharing this, Liz. Family lexicons can be a lot of fun, can't they? My elder brothers used to talk of “a-thing-with-a-tail-not-quite-at-the-end” in hushed tones. It turned out to be a kind of caterpillar.
Fabulous essay Jeffrey. I love how you lead us from pylons to poetry. Never in my mind had these two met until today! And while I can appreciate poets of our past revering the newness of these massive “cathedrals”, (and even more the way the set your youthful heart afire with a desire to travel) I’ll rest easy in a forest with Thomas’ “parables of sunlight” any day. 😊
Thank you, Kimberly! It’s always a thrill to get this kind of feedback from you! And yes, the line from Thomas is worth quoting again and again. It’s the kind of phrase that conjures an earthly paradise.
Hi Jeffrey, I don't know when the last time you drove up the M5 was, but about 3-4 years ago the huge pylons between Weston Super Mare and Bristol were replaced by eco-friendlier small ones. They look more like ski-lift pylons now.
Thank you, James. Goodness, how did I miss those?
https://www.tep.uk.com/new-pylons-in-the-uk-landscape/
This looks like the first change in design for nearly a century!
The very first time I gazed from the windows of this rambling French farmhouse to cast my eye across its panoramic views of far hills, I sighed to my husband, 'if only the pylons could have been more aesthetically placed' however, they didn't deter us from signing the paperwork. In the almost 20 years since, I have grown to love their majestic race across the hills, photographed them often even - in effect, they have become part of the poetry of my hill.
On a sadder note, I can never think of pylons without recalling a day in assembly, I must have been about 13 I think, when the headmaster stood, with a choked voice, telling us of the death of one of the students who had climbed a pylon as a dare. I don't think the entire school had ever been as silent as we were in those few minutes.
I have had a fearful respect since.
Jeffrey this is a resonantly beautiful essay - thank you for sharing.
PS Did you ever hear of the Choi and Shine architects project to transform electrical pylons into statues on the Icelandic landscape? I'm sure you have but just in case here is the link - the idea is breathtaking though I'm not certain it was ever constructed, maybe you do?
https://choishine.com/Giants.html
Thank you for sharing those memories, Susie. I'm so sorry to hear about that poor boy... I hadn't heard about the Choi and Shine project. It's beautiful! Thank you so much for sharing it!
My first thought was of Derek Jarman's Prospect Cottage and the view of the Dungeness Nuclear Power Plant - another nuclear plant features in the book "Annihilation" - these monuments of electricity. Always giving us the different perspective, Jeffrey!
Thank you, Troy! Yes, monuments of electricity abound, don't they?
Wind turbine poets! Now, there’s an idea. This essay reminds me how fresh and even beautiful familiar the most utilitarian things can be when seen by a kid—or a poet.
Thank you, Rona!
Or seen by any of us, if we're able to wipe the dust of habit from our eyes?
I surprised the imagination of the "pylon poets". Pylons are so mundane for we Japanese that we couldn't consider carefully. But, I am interested in the structures as constructions. I like utility poles lined up in the towns much more rather than pylons.
Thank you for your comment! Actually, I also like the utility poles in my Tokyo neighbourhood and the tangles of wirs they hold.
Yes, so tangled beauties!
I grew up listening to Flanders and Swann. 'The Slow Train's was about the loss of those locals train lines. Rural Canada lost its local lines too - now many of them are hiking trails.
Growing up in a rural area, we just had the 'telephone' poles, as we called the 20 ft poles carrying both hydro (electricity) lines and telephone cables, running down one side of every rural road. My grandparents lived near the Great Lakes, where there were both nuclear power stations and the great hydroelectric dam at Niagara. On the route to their house, I quickly learned we were close whenever I saw the aerial river of enormous pylons and hydro lines, cutting diagonally through farmers' fields, towering over forest trees, and bridging the road we were driving on. In 1998, a terrible ice storm in April in the Great Lakes region coated the hydro wires with ice until the weight crumpled those great steel pylons into weird shapes, leaving many without power for days in freezing temperatures. Those steel structures were not as powerful as they looked.
Now, on a clear day, I can look from my window across miles of field, forest and lake to a high ridge where wind turbines stand. There was great controversy over those turbines. A nearby Buddhist meditation centre was concerned they would disturb the peace. A rare tree that grew on the land was being cut down. They were put up anyway. The ironic part? The province already produces too much power - the excess is sold to the U.S. Indeed,uch of the north eastern seaboard of the U.S. is supplied by Canadian power. We have so watercourses to put dams, which is why we call electricity hydro.
Thank you for sharing that rich reflection, Holly. The 1998 ice storm must have been really disruptive. But perhaps the effect on the pylons would have been weirdly beautiful, too? To hear about the wind turbines being put put up like that makes it sound like profit and not the environment was the main motivation.
Yes, when the pylons collapsed, there were some photos taken of them that won prizes. This link has some photos: https://canadaalive.wordpress.com/2013/12/27/snapshot-ice-storm-98/.
Thanks, Holly. There are some amazing photos there!
When I lived in Vietnam, I found the pylons and the general infrastructure of getting power to and from places fascinating! Masses and masses of cables bunched together in knots stretched across buildings and roads. Thoroughly dangerous, especially for the person trying to find the cable for a particular building if there was an essay (I would imagine)! Quite the sight but I quite enjoyed photographing them!
Hi Sarah. Here in Tokyo, most cables are above ground, perhaps because of the risk of earthquakes. So there is a tangle at many road corners.
Ah that makes sense. Although the engineering feats of the Japanese astounds me. A lot of countries could learn a lot from them!
Oops noticed an error in my comment too… essay?? That was meant to read issue 🤣
Such a part of the British landscape, Jeffrey, as you say. I was terrified of going anywhere near them, because of the public information film about the boy getting electrocuted retrieving his kite!
I was wary of them, I guess. I never felt like climbing up them. I guess we had enough trees for that.
They do ruin the landscape atmosphere and yet again add some industrial aggressiveness. I think it's the word of the month for me, industrialist. Keep going back to it. But we need electricity to do so many things. I like that you refer to them as humming but I find it that whenever I hear those sounds from the wires and pylons that they give away some heavy duty string instrument that needs tuning. It's an unpleasant sound for me. As for wind turbine poets, didn't Thomas Dolby have a song about Wind Power. I think he swears by them. Don't let me get started on those. Planted in the sea and the soil and then it disturbs sea life, and you cannot use the soil they stand on either. Whether pylons or turbines they stand there bare and I have my qualms about them both.
Thank you! I must look up that Dolby song. I guess in terms of renewables, I like solar panels the most. Quiet and the arrays of panels can be quite beautiful.
Well so did I… until I started researching on to them. I’ve seen fertile soil and ground in south Europe, filled with the monstrosities of these solar powered blocks of black that stop land from being farmed and raise the temperature in the area. Crazy… less food as is and with these propped on farmland even less food. So I have my doubts on that. The song is way back from the 80s I think.
I knew the grouping of Spender, Auden, Day-Lewis, and MacNeice but did not know they were known as the pylon poets, nor, needless to say, why. Always an education!
One of my regrets regarding the "one-life rule" (you can look it up -- somewhere) is that I'll never have a childhood growing up in the English countryside.
Most to the point, this especially resonates with me today, after having reviewed last night an older essay I plan to rerun soon that begins with my own surprising, early "pathways or routes into faraway lands." Whatever can conjure the far away and ways to get there.