The sun shining through one of the buildings; everything was overgrown.
Even in monochrome, you can probably tell what colors were over Hastings that evening: Red, White, and Blue.
These pools looked into the cribbing below the concrete.
We mark our world in unexpected ways… this is how patient possessions would be stored during their stay in the old asylum wards. It’s about the size of a shoebox, and this particular drawer has a name where the others do not. Its place reminded me of the hospital cemetery where more than 3,000 are buried and less than 1% of whom are recorded by stone or plaque in their resting place.
I love the big old industrial windows.
Only two machines sit on the rails in the roundhouse, both oil cars. It’s not clear whether there’s anything inside either, but they have to have been placed here before 1970, when the turntable outside these numbered doors was removed.
A Kiva is an underground, or partly underground, chamber for ceremonies.
They left and took their God with ’em. Doesn’t feel too empty without ‘im, though.