It reminds me of a citadel, or maybe a zigurat. Something huge and monumental, which, oddly enough, it isn't. Its walls step straight out of the forest, and give the moss something to grow on. It seems rather demure until you're standing right under it, then you see it goes much higher than the trees.
I find construction equipment intriguing. It's always so worn, and the workings are alien in a landscape otherwise populated by commuter vehicles. These machines actually do work, something meaningful. There is more than just a puff of gas left in the air after they leave.
The sign wast starting to look pretty neat, so I took it's picture. A few days later, they replaced it.
Another example of wise prophet words.
Dog nose hairs.
The girly under a New York autumn.
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