There is a feeling that often accompanies ghost towns and abandoned places: a forlorn sadness, emptiness as though the buildings themselves passed away after their humans disappeared. It is as though these dwellings carry a spirit within them that longs for human occupation, like a pet without its master or a grandparent who must come to terms with their existence in final years being memory of what they once were until time finally takes its toll and they pass from the moment, the here and now, into the then and never again. Sometimes these buildings seem to awaken when humans come to visit, elated to once again have a purpose and a family, to be warm and protective like a hen sheltering her chicks. Sometimes, they are indifferent, knowing too well that your presence is fleeting; within moments you will disappear and leave them once again alone, just like all the others did. And sometimes the buildings are hostile, lashing out at the visitors as trespassers while making clear that your presence is unwelcome.