Iron sea

I was away working in a new place last week. A steel plant I've passed many times, whose smoke stacks remind me strongly of my roots. Quite literally a blast from the past... along with the pervading whiff of coke and the eerie sense that the change that is visible all around even to the outsider, might actually be decline: 'Son, look around you. Do you see the broad streets with green medians, the old rail-bed now a sylvan footpath, and the empty dormitories... do you see the 1 bus an hour, the second-hand car dealerships, and the stacked up tables and chairs in the partitioned cafeteria... I remember when all this was factories and workers and industry, as far as the eye could see, which wasn't far because of the smog...'

Not being an ambulance chaser, I was drawn down the old rail-bed and on towards the sea:


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