The last long leg of my road trip from Florida to Michigan was spent on route 65, driving through the long state of Indiana. As I passed Indianapolis in the center of the state and then Purdue University north of that, a strange sight appeared out of nowhere: hundreds of massive pinwheels twirling in the breeze.

It was as if I’d happened upon a festive children’s birthday party where the favors were pristine-white whirligigs. Literally as far as the eye could see in any direction these gently spinning fan-like towers were “growing” right out of farm fields.

Since being home I’ve Googled this phenomenon and learned these sleek, three-pronged structures aren’t windmills at all but wind turbines that harness power for energy efficient production of electricity. Crowds of these turbines “growing” in a group are called a wind farm, and they can be found in flat, hilly or mountainous terrain. They’re even erected in water much like offshore oil-drilling stations.

From a bird’s eye view, wind farms must resemble sea anemone or white porcupines. I learned that opposition groups have formed to prevent the establishment of wind farms for esthetic reasons, but in terms of “going green” on energy, they can’t be beat. Other groups say they bring “peace and tranquility” to the landscape.

The many white spinners I saw were plunked down in the middle of already-plowed fields awaiting corn and bean sprouts. It was as if they were a new crop of giant vegetables trying to fit in. Tractor marks encircled each massive base making round patterns in the dirt, and for many miles there was not one farm without them.

As I drove along, I had to struggle to keep my eyes on the road rather than on these graceful wind turbines. Just call me Dawn Quixote. Then suddenly, as abruptly as they began, they ended. Wind currents must have calmed at that point, since farms with steady winds are the only places turbines are built.

As the forest of “windmills” ended and plain farm acreage took over, I saw a small house with an old fashioned wooden windmill next to its barn. The traditional paddle spinner seemed tiny and antique compared to its 21^st century counterpart. The word “humble” came to mind. Yet this kind of windmill has served as the power source for grinding, pumping and pressing for hundreds of years.

Mankind has tried to harness wind and its power since the time of Christ, but the ultimate wind-control goes to the Trinity: Jesus, stilling windstorms; the Holy Spirit, coming with the sound of rushing wind; and God, holding wind in his hands. These three can do with wind what no one else can, which is only one of many reasons why we are not like God and should not try to be.

By the way, I learned Canada is experimenting with wind turbines in the Great Lakes. Maybe one of these days we’ll see a line of them marching down the middle of Lake Michigan. Energy production would be wonderful if they got close to Chicago, which is the original “Windy City.”

“Whose hands have gathered up the wind? What is his name, and what is the name of his son? Surely you know!” (Proverbs 30:4)