Raw power and surprising beauty shroud the now silent steel mill. Go there. Go alone and go unplugged. The silence is the experience. Let it be sacred. Meditate on how the once dominating force of a town has become an industrial tombstone.
Go in July or August on the hottest afternoon you can find. Stand in the direct sun and be grateful for your discomfort, recognizing that it is less than the workers’ daily experience, in temperature and in time. Being soaked in sweat will let you know how it felt to be soaked in sweat and in water drenched work gear that kept the workers a little safer.
Rust and peeling paint are art writ large. Wind and weather with nothing but time will change this endeavor back into earth.