“Forgotten at Anselma” came from a lot of rusted and charred mill machinery lying in a bed of snow. I took some time before a meeting to explore the local area of Chester Springs. Going prepared of course, I searched the web for sites of interest and came across The Mill at Amselma. The Mill and information center was closed when I arrived, but walking around the grounds proved to be well worth the stop.
Knowing nothing about the mechanics of the pieces resting on the snow and ice, it looked as though the machine parts were still attached to their supports, although broken and charred. Contrasting the crisp white of its resting place, the metal had taken on bright, varying hues of rust and patina.
Maybe there was an accident, a malfunction or simply a replacement of old parts. Either way, the discard of something unwanted had become something of appeal. Something broken and forgotten was found and, in a sense, recreated.