It seems like a place familiar but unknown at the same time.  The hills roll along as you are driving and the waves of undulating grasses, sometimes green, but mostly yellow bend to the mad will of the wind.  All of a sudden, a megalith appears on the horizon, then disappears, and reappears again.

This is still the place where the buffalo roam, but now there is more.  There exists a giant white object that uses the mad wind’s will for man’s benefit.  How strange that its blades can rotate, slice the sky, and turn that slice into, well, something.

This is not your grand-mother’s high-plains.  The traditionally empty, wind-swept, lonely, infertile plains are filling up.  Becoming useful in new ways.