In the many-windowed metal building, the lumberyard buildings and the abandoned starch works buildings are separated by a thick wall of pallets.
A pipe bracket seems to have rusted off of the ceiling.
The gold mine is now a gravel pit.
Some of the rotting clothes were in boxes, split long ago from moisture. Others were just heaped in piles.
Two versions of Detroit. One where buildings stand tall and proud, and one where they wilt under the sun. It’s an amazing juxtaposition.
Strange graffiti in a side room. Someone was having fun…
On the scale of the big machine shop, the huge piles of clothing look insignificant.
The end of the dock disappears in the fog.
A circular common room in one of the original parts of the hospital. When the asylum was especially crowded, this would be filled with patient beds, too. It’s very strange that this floor was not tiled like the other common rooms. It makes me wonder if especially dangerous patients were kept in this ward; those who could not be trusted to not extract and sharpen the ceramic tiles. Portra 160.