Even with a hundred people parked in front of the lakeside relic, it was invisible.
When I revisited the mine in 2013, the hoists were scrapped and sitting by the road.
The old way to get to the elevator from the mill.
The sun unzipped the clouds. Mist blew across the harbor.
These tubes would bring cement to the top of the plant for storage in the silos.
What time is it?
“To make a prairie it takes a clover and one bee, One clover, and a bee, And revery. The revery alone will do, If bees are few.” ― Emily Dickinson
A view of the Harris offices, complete with great block glass.
A little sun and a little moisture sprouted this grass in the middle of the steel silos, in the midst of Minneapolis’ “graffiti graveyard”. Two images of time: nature growing through industry and rust dissolving old art in the elements.