How, you are probably asking, does an old, defunct, decrepit structure such as this make me think of nostalgia? Quite simple, really: ghost towns like this one at Bankhead, Alberta make me think of previous lives, previous people – ancestors, predecessors and forebears.
I see here a building of some kind – probably commercial, given the thickness of the concrete foundation. I see windows which at point someone probably stood behind. I see a place where some people contemplated the day, or their family, or their work. I close my eyes and I picture someone walking around with a piece of paper in his hand – a bill or a pay cheque – and deciding what to do with it.
Thus, the nostalgia in this photo doesn’t belong to me – though I certainly do enjoy it. It belongs to the people who lived or worked here. And now it also belongs to you.