an ill wind blows atop devil's mountain

spent a few hours yesterday creeping around the abandoned cold war listening station atop teufelsberg. energetic vegetation overruns the remains of the western allies deepest penetration behind the iron curtain, now the playground of graffiti artists and local dopers. the site's spacious domes once sheltered the most sensitive of technological ears as they eavesdropped on enemy communications, but today the entire site is dominated by the sound of the relentless wind tearing through the industrial textiles and prefab structures as they fall to ruin.