Smoke billows every morning. Skyline of J.C. Heights. Steeples to the right, tiny crosses in the sky. I got a new camera with a new lens, finally did this image some justice. A remnant of our industrial past, when kids from the nearby Dickinson High School could get decent paying jobs. Now the lone smokestack, smoke billows. I like the way there’s a space, a pause, a slice of sky, between the mouth of the stack and the start of the billow.
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