Looking down Pommenicher Straße from Gaststätte Rosarius, the monstrous machine about to devour the town bites at the ground.
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.
A side door for the shop area with ivy crawling toward it.
One of the old cooperage buildings is largely unchanged from when it was built. The raised section of the building houses a crane.
One of the few windows that escaped steel plating the last time the hospital was sealed tight to let nature roam within.
The powerplant was roughly in the middle of the rail works.
The office was redder than the rest of the building.
An abandoned house at Tilston, MB.
Some guerilla art for passing drivers on I-94 East to enjoy. Artist unknown.