This section retains water and is mostly shaded, so moss has found a way to live in the concrete.
The floor IS the machine…
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.
From the bottom of the skyway I looked back, my eyes tracing the vines from the marsh up the smokestacks to the perfect Midwestern sky.
In the bottom of a creek, an antique children’s wheelchair is buried in grass, where someone threw it. Wooden leg braces suggest this dates to the 1950s.
This used to be the main entrance of The Orpheum, before Orpheum Garage on Superior Street was converted into a new entrance.
You can see almost ever level of the factory from this spot.
Limits on personnel and explosives allowed in the building at the same time.
This part of the roundhouse was being brought down by rain and gravity.