Looking toward Old Taylor Distillery from the roof of Old Crow.
I wonder what this guy is thinking, walking through the complex.
The rust garden’s brick centerpiece contrasts the muted winter Kentucky palette.
It was a strange choice, although I appreciate it, for the firm reusing the shops to brick up the doorways while leaving the doors.
The mill was powered, in part, by water flowing through turbines under it. After the flow worked the industrial heart of the flour mill, it was exit to the Mississippi here.
The old men’s ward is an example of what the hospital resembled before part of the complex was modernized. Small rooms, light switches outside the door, small observation windows set into heavy wood. If you ask me, though, the tile work across the floors is the most spectacular.
Taken from the rooftop looking toward downtown, a hometown, a river town.
A rail maintenance building. I liked the color of the tree against the peeling red paint.
Designed by Taylor himself, the spring house was the site of many parties in its day. You can imagine sipping fresh-tapped whiskey here with your Sunday clothes with soft music and the sounds of the river mixing in the background. Note the key-hole-shaped spring hole.