A bridge crosses the main street of the village; one that goes nowhere. Ambiguity intended.
Kodak Tri-X 400, Leica M7. Serious enough to write across the side of the tank, but not serious enough to have a sign made.
Small rooms in the basement of the asylum were seemingly too tiny to be used, even for storage.
I am not sure, but I think this section was a storehouse; it has two ramps that connect the rail yard outside and the blacksmith shop. On all of the historic doors that face that part of the yard, signs caution workers to look out for cars…
Storms and waves, focused by the Port of Wisconsin entry have focused the faces to tear-up these boards below.
The power pulley that ran air compressors straight off of the steam plant’s axel.
“This way,” then, “No, that way!”
A sign facing the city on an exterior wall–a sort of motivational poster.