I liked the color of her hair against the rusty rock house and blue winter sky.
Before developers saw to cut and cut the flour mills inside Pillsbury, they stood at the ready beside various purposeful chutes the traversed the floors of between sorters. These machines were belt-driven by the power of Pillsbury’s Mississippi headraces and turbines, the force of which notoriously shook the building’s foundations themselves. The wheels would change the grade of the flour, or the size of the dust produced from crushing the kernels.
On my first self-guided tour, the calculator was caught my eye because it was one of the few things left behind in the laboratories that filled the second floor. On my next trip, it had been smashed to pieces.
From inside a painting shed, where heatlamps and a vented roof made sure that the Caddy looked like it was worth the price tag.
The power pulley that ran air compressors straight off of the steam plant’s axel.
I tried to hide the graffiti from my photos, but sometimes it wasn’t possible.
Looking toward the old power house, right below one of its arteries.
…out of our depth.
These aluminum powder kegs were forgotten in storage.