I like to imagine this as an old-timey radio microphone.
A misnomer that stuck.
When not running 24 hours a day during a campaign, the plant was being repaired. Every sugar mill has a large shop and parts room for those times.
The glow from the city is bright enough to read by.
It’s a small world… look at it.
The Sivertson’s sign seems like from a different time. I’ve never seen it lit, but I bet it’s beautiful.
In the office at the end of the dock are two brooms. One is from the last ore train. One is from the last boat.
This is part of the oldest section of factory, one that hasn’t had a roof in a long time and all usable equipment has been extracted. The machines pictured would spin sliced beets in boiling water… it was a sealed system before someone cut holes on sides of each unit.
Algae grows where water flows/From the sawtooth roof/To the mines below/The sun climbs high/But is in no one’s eyes/A wall alone crumbles/It was no suprise