The Eye of the Beholder

As I reached the top of the escalator I was riding today I noticed a discarded cardboard coffee cup on the very top step. As the escalator continued to rumble the cup was stuck at the edge, the motion causing it to spin in a wheel-like fashion, forever moving yet going nowhere. And strangely I was drawn to it....
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No, this is not going to be a metaphor-laden soul-searching blog about people 'going nowhere'. It is, instead, simply a reflection on the strangeness of what we find to be beautiful. Much like the plastic bag in 'American Beauty' this piece of litter was captivating. It was not as random or graceful as the aforementioned bag yet there was something strangely perfect in the fact that it had found its way to this place, something bizarrely moving about the way in which it moved around and around. Maybe I'm just a bit of a weirdy cunt, but I stopped for a moment to watch it anyway... and it got me thinking about my own taste in 'beauty'.
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Now, I'm a country bumpkin at heart. I love the smell of the forest, the beauty of the gnarled old trees, the sound of the wind. As such you would expect me to hate the giant footprints that man leaves littered all over the countryside, but you'd only be partially right. Yes, I despise the indiscriminate littering perpetrated by ignorant individuals, and even more so the wholesale environmental tipping doled out by all-too-knowing corporations, but there are times when modern technology collides with mother nature to produce what is, to my mind, breathtaking artistry.
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My personal favourite, and a classic example, is that of the wind-turbines erected in many places throughout the UK (and elsewhere). A descendent of the windmill, the architects of the modern turbine have removed the basic stone building and instead mounted blades on tall, sleek towers that seem to be straight out of science fiction. And I love 'em!
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Have you ever been travelling somewhere and slowly caught a glimpse of something flickering just over the next hill? Then, as you progress further, the flickering reveals itself to be the three blades endlessly turning atop the tower that gradually emerges.... it's like watching some giant robots or machines striding the countryside, a la 'War of the Worlds' or that old BBC series 'Tripods'. Majestic is a word I frequently use to describe them. And I never tire of coming across a cluster...
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It is a shame not everyone feels this way, but not living near to any turbines myself perhaps I truly am unaware of the noise-pollution they alledgedly create. Regardless of that, however, there will always be some stuffed shirts who think that something cannot be beautiful if it is not a classical piece of artwork. Remember the initial horrified response to the 'Angel of the North' (another monument that I find awe-inspiring - pictured above)?
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Beauty is a funny old thing, you never know where you'll find it... moments like that insignificant coffee cup are worth treasuring. Even if they do start me talking /writing like a poncey twat.
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Cheers m'dears!