Brownfield

On top of the light hoop, 160-feet up, a ship comes into port, ready to load-up. If you look really close, you can see my shadow cast on the dock below, courtesy of the full moon.

Squinting from the top floor through the skyway, one can feel small, like they’re in a heavy industrial dollhouse.

The bits with handles are the filters with screens of different sizes. Larger grain particles would be stopped at the top for further reduction via the mills, while the powder at the bottom would be run through another bolter–one of the refinement stages in flour production.

The middle section of the smokestacks were coal hoppers, and this device would load the coal into the hoppers from the conveyor belt it rode across. The bottom section of the stacks were storage rooms while the very top were, surprise, chimneys for the power plant.

A burned and rusted control panel in the corner of the new hoist room.

A panorama of the dock buildings, before the left one was demolished.

The left wall is stacked high with wooden crates holding spools. Tags hang on machines describing the last batch of silk the mill ever produced.

Thanks to the demolition (I’ll never say that again), the inner structure of the bins are revealed. So much wood!

An abandoned ranch on the east side of the tracks. This was not the Colmor Cutoff they were waiting for.