They are silent witnesses of our time which stand in the landscape as the personified expression of our consumer society. Sometimes, when the wind hits them, their appearance changes. They wait in the landscape to either extend winter or make it possible altogether. To this end, they are unveiled, once it is cold enough, and are allowed to show their true faces. With a mighty roar they spew from their round maws, in which blades spin like turbines, a jet of white flakes onto the sometimes still snowless landscape.