Exterior

This is part of the outside wall. People had stuck concert flyers all over it.

Structure & plants

The center of the station, roughly. It's a big building. There were a great deal of wild plants in this area, which got a lot of sunlight. They grew up from the tracks, mostly. Some climbed walls and pillars. Trees outside stuck their branches through the broken windows. Unmaintained buildings are no match for vegetation.

Wow.

Isn't it beautiful? Like something out of a Miyazaki movie.

Leaving the sunshine

for shadowy depths.

Another view.

That brown object in the center right is an armchair, which I'll come to later.

This was totally an effective deterrent to intruders.

The right side of the station.

(From my entry point, anyway.) It was darker in here, as the roof was still intact. Fewer plants, more graffiti, cigarette butts, and broken beer bottles. Somebody'd clearly been hanging out there relatively recently.

Some windows. It really was dark in there.

Wide view

Trash in a hole.

You can't really tell in this picture, but those crumpled bits of paper are pages from a book. A novel, I think. They were all partially burned. You can see my feet in the bottom right corner. I have average-sized feet for a woman, so you can tell it's a pretty wide hole.

Hole in the wall.

I came through this way a couple of times.

Graffiti

in a room, a room like a small apartment, at the top of a staircase against the wall on the far right side of the station. There were two similar rooms at ground level, but they had no windows and no graffiti, although I did find a really old, forest-green, mildewy sleeping bag in one, and more burned book pages.

More graffiti.

Same room, different wall. Several layers of peeling paint and wallpaper under the graffiti.

Still more graffiti.

View from the top of the stairs.

Boarded-up window.

There were waterlogged, torn magazine pages stuck behind the glass.

The Chair.

An old armchair had been dragged out between the tracks, towards the center. It was dusty, but comfortable. I sat in it to read. A couple of times it mysteriously changed its location between my visits, not moving far, but far enough that I know I wasn't just imagining it.

Another chair.

This one was less comfortable.

Signs. Scaffolding. Plants.

Front wall, interior.

Front wall, interior, corner.

Room just off the central area.

Lots of broken tile. I'm not sure what it was used for, I don't know enough about train stations.

Bullet holes?

A high window on the front wall.

Circuit board, rusting.

Another view.

Look! Look! Are you moved to existential contemplation of the transience of human works yet? Are you? Are you?

Exit.

Remember that hole in the wall I showed you earlier? Here's where it comes out.

Right here.

There are blackberry bushes growing beneath the train tracks.

Houses.

To get back, I walked through a wooded area and around the hippie-artists' trailers, which are these. No one was home, but they weren't abandoned. I just thought they were really neat.