In some places in the mine shops, you can still make out narrow gauge track in the floors.
Rims where bulbs were, light were motors were, stairs were people were.
This is where the lime would spill out.
A door covered in pen graffiti.
At sunset the light skips from puddle to stagnant puddle across the whole foundry room, playing with the classic sawtooth roof with half-hearted shadows.
A sign facing the city on an exterior wall–a sort of motivational poster.
This was taken before the top of the docks really started to rot-out; now this stretch past the crane is distinctly unsafe to cross. Still, you can’t beat the view of Dock #2 winding into the distance, where the approach is chopped-off before the yard used to extend.
The mostly-empty distilling room is easy to spot from the outside because of the distinctive round window.
Looking through the dark door at Shaft 3, when my naked eyes could only make out a staircase lit dimly from above.