The common rooms bulge out of the institutional geometry of the wards.
“Crunch, crunch, crunch,” said the ground. “I know,” I replied.
This tree caught my eye. Note the bench swing near it. Portra 160.
In this old repair shop, vines fall from the rotting roof to meet mossy concrete. Even though it had been dry for days, water dripped in from the roof to make permanent puddles between workstations. It was full of color and sound and industry and nature.
The interior of one of the curved corridors that connect two wards. Note the original floor’s hand-laid tile pattern. Portra 160.
When I see this picture, I imagine that I am an ant exploring a mushroom farm.
A staircase threads between the top floor and the sluices, which are in the middle of the dredge-mill.
One of two control towers that reached over the lake. The control panel here was used to move the conveyors over the ship’s hold doors, adjust flow of the taconite, and so on.