Through Broken Walls
Originally posted to The Devil is in the Details
Halfway between San Fransisco and Napa, in the town of American Canyon, lie the abandoned ruins of a cement factory that closed in 1978. Since then, the walls have crumbled and the ceilings have fallen in. Foxes run along the roads and a Great Horned Owl circles in the empty rooms, the tiny bones of a thousand dinners crunching underfoot.
It was to this incredible spot, accessible with only a little breaking and entering and a bit of a hike, that Adam Gross of Benaiah Art Photo took me a few weeks back. The lighting was perfect, and I refrained from chasing Western Fence Lizards long enough to capture a little of the wonder of the place.
There is something so incredible about a world where nature has reclaimed her own, rising up in revolt against things as seemingly solid and timeless as these imposing walls. It is a vision to me of what is to come, the world returning to balance in the absence of humanity. Here are some postcards from after the apocalypse, notes from a future of rabbits and blackbackberries, of birdsong and the sound of iron rusting into dust.
Flickr Stream
Originally posted to The Devil is in the Details
Halfway between San Fransisco and Napa, in the town of American Canyon, lie the abandoned ruins of a cement factory that closed in 1978. Since then, the walls have crumbled and the ceilings have fallen in. Foxes run along the roads and a Great Horned Owl circles in the empty rooms, the tiny bones of a thousand dinners crunching underfoot.
It was to this incredible spot, accessible with only a little breaking and entering and a bit of a hike, that Adam Gross of Benaiah Art Photo took me a few weeks back. The lighting was perfect, and I refrained from chasing Western Fence Lizards long enough to capture a little of the wonder of the place.
There is something so incredible about a world where nature has reclaimed her own, rising up in revolt against things as seemingly solid and timeless as these imposing walls. It is a vision to me of what is to come, the world returning to balance in the absence of humanity. Here are some postcards from after the apocalypse, notes from a future of rabbits and blackbackberries, of birdsong and the sound of iron rusting into dust.
Flickr Stream
VIEW 13 of 13 COMMENTS
-TM