In an old ward, two men would have shared this room.
The ice around the dock, compressed by the waves, was less clear than the open ice.
A me-sized hole in the half-demolished skyway looks about a story down to the ground. Step lightly. Arista 100.
It was a strange choice, although I appreciate it, for the firm reusing the shops to brick up the doorways while leaving the doors.
A brewmaster’s desk leans beside a long-disused stainless steel kettle. The staircase above goes to another level of kettles, which are visibly older.
Zachary Taylor’s very own Scottish castle, spring-side in the Kentucky backcountry. Boarded and waiting, but in surprisingly good condition, considering the decades. I especially love the tower on the right side of the frame.
Between all of the buildings was dense growth, especially vines.
The bricks are decaying at different rates at this corner, making it especially colorful.
Many outdoor areas of the plant have become unofficial city dumps. The skeleton doesn’t care.