This is the old fruit warehouse district. Skulking birds with chiseled black beaks huddle like thugs on telephone wires. Square-jawed dogs prowl and bark, but there's nothing here to guard except paint chips and leaning boards. The air feels damp and heavy. So silent, yet harboring a subtle menace--the abandoned buildings, the razor wire, a length of iron pipe...
Natural and synthetic worlds collude and collaborate. As decrepit as any manmade structure may be, life forms always dwell in and around it, sometimes completing entire cycles of birth and death within a single edifice. A site may have been run into the ground by humankind, but for animals it is a shelter like any other, and they lend regeneration through their very presence.
