Watching the comings and goings of doctors, nurses and new patients was a mainstay of asylum routine; one can find it easy to imagine pale faces pressed against the block glass windows, staring out at the world moving past them.
…somebody get the number of that truck! Near the Day Rooms in the Paying Patient ward.
The pipes above sprayed water onto the hot coke.
As my friend Jonathan would say, “on a human scale.”
Ultimately, it was the bad roof that doomed these buildings.
Before the gold could be extracted, the rock was turned to powder. Depending on the size of the steel balls inside the mill, the rock would be reduced to a certain size. So, multiple mills were usually used in stages.
Rows of offices under the power plant, which was in the middle of being demolished during my adventure. Despite the snow, this was meant as an interior.
One of the few windows that escaped steel plating the last time the hospital was sealed tight to let nature roam within.
Between the repair shops and the stock department is this odd little structure. No, the walls are not level–it’s not your eyes. The shops slope left, the structure slopes right.
At sunset the light skips from puddle to stagnant puddle across the whole foundry room, playing with the classic sawtooth roof with half-hearted shadows.