Volcano is a tiny village dating back to the Gold Rush of the 1850s. Many of its original buildings are still standing, but I found the ruins of the community store the most beautiful of its subjects. It was late in the day, and the setting sun was backlighting the weeds that stood within the walls of the ruin. The door framed the translucent weeds, which contrast to the textures of the old gate and stone walls. A tree grows out of the doorsill, while ivy covers the top of the wall. Nature has come to reclaim the work of man here, and does so in a poetic manner.