|In the upper valleys, beyond the
dams and reservoirs the stream
meanders slowly through the moorland, just as it has for eons of time.
The Buzzards and Red Kites mew softly in the sky above and the only
other sound is the wind in the grasses and the burble of the stream
over the stones. Once, before the dams, the whole of this area was
unspoilt wilderness with a few hill farms. Shall we accept the rape of
the land again? Only this time, instead of creating a comparatively
benign and picturesque series of lakes, the ridges above the lakes
would be littered with great towers of flailing metal.