Soft rain on Vulcan’s ashy pyre… Both of these peaks are dead volcanos, too hard to be totally washed away by storms. As a result, they seem to rise dramatically from the flat valley.
From inside a painting shed, where heatlamps and a vented roof made sure that the Caddy looked like it was worth the price tag.
The windows reflect the sky. The bricks hit the ground.
“GREETING FROM BEAUTIFUL GARY–WISH YOU WERE HERE!” My postcard shot.
If you look close you can see a figure on the water tower.
As sun set the car barn underwent a temperature inversion causing a dense fog to rise from the puddles where tracks once where. I opened the Yellowstone-sized doors and watched the bank roll out into downtown Mitchell.
2005. Looking across the Mississippi from a park the night after the first snow.
I like to imagine this as an old-timey radio microphone.
Street lights and pavement are some of the obvious signs a town used to be here.