I don’t pretend to be an accurate historian, but I do absolutely love many old things. I am very fond of antique shops and have picked up some interesting things over the years–some valuable, most just unique. I also love old dilapidated buildings and houses with history.
This particular place, a paper mill in its day, is nothing now but a shell of what was once a noisy, hot, metallic and brick sort of place. It will soon be knocked down and I am very thankful that I was allowed the opportunity to capture some images of what it looks like today after all of its people, its sounds, and its sweat have been removed.
Walking through the dust and broken glass, one can almost imagine the near-deafening sounds of a place so grand. Building after building was erected. Someone placed each brick that made up the walls. Someone tightened large bolts into place to hold pipes. Someone was responsible for the pull of electricity through the factory’s veins.
Although the place is lifeless today, it was once a booming and fast paced place full of dangers and the lives of hard-working men raising families with sweat and dedication. Lives were lived out within it’s walls.
As I walked along, the silence within the walls of the buildings was quickly filled by my footsteps and I could hear each of my breaths as though they were magnified. Each step, each breath, each thought felt like it was the cadence of a familiar but faraway song playing just out of reach of reality.
I am drawn to places like these. The space is so massive and the details are so interesting, there will be more posts to follow.
