One thing I like about the oppressive globalist-wrought future is the idea of numerically subdividing spaces; my geek side sort of wants to live in a flat that can be sorted by as Dewey Decimal-like code.
This bridge over Eagle River is beautiful.
Thousands of tags in a supply closet. Each has lots its meaning.
Rims where bulbs were, light were motors were, stairs were people were.
The generator room was state of the art when it was installed, allowing the complex to use motors and electric lighting ahead of its competitors.
The rear of engine bay 13… according to the heavily faded sign.
I wish I knew what has become of this great one-of-a-kind sign that used to brag how many days the Clyde Iron factory has gone without a serious accident. Update: It’s hanging in one of the smaller venue spaces behind the bar.
After a little rain, the roof took on the color of the bright pink letters.