Taken from inside the control room. This is the first shot in years that I thought needed to be monochromatic. The only thing I liked better in color was the Kool-Aid blue gallon of punch. Notice the gloves; someone still works here.
It's incredible to think that this saw-mill is still functioning. As a kid, I could hear the deep thrum of it through the woods a mile away. Family legend has it that the Robert's bro.'s stole our trees for lumber, and since their land meets the back of ours separated by nothing more than the old dry-stone wall, it's probably true. My hermit friend Jack says he once saw them burning a huge stack of tires, the black smoke belching out into the air. Their mill has a feeling of menace about it, and on this freezing-rain day it seemed the most desolate place on earth.
