This yard full of scrap is a mysterious place. I recall in my first few months working at this small machine shop I paid this place no mind. A concrete basin filled ruined machinery, rusted bits, and rotted wood. It did little to stand out in an industrial area rife with similar decaying detritus. At a certian point, after working there for a while I decided that taking lunch breaks in my car was lame. I never really brought anything for lunch because the local food truck (or 'roach coach' as I've heard them referred to) would always stop by in the morning, before noon lunch break. I was never hungry, and would usually take the opportunity to sit in my car and look at my phone (quite lame as previously mentioned)
Eventually I'm spending every lunch break poking around the place. Sometimes I would go out and jump around, get some excercise. I would go and collect trinkets, or look at birds... One time I took a sledgehammer out there and just started hitting stuff. There was no end to the possible festivites in this empty place! Secluded enough for no coworkers to bother me, and overgrown enough for occasional creatures of the wild to come visit. There is also clearly a lot of history in this environment. Remnants of previous employees livin it up back there as well. There's plenty of food trash, cigarrette butts, and there's one spot in the brush absolutely littered with discarded bottles of fireball whiskey.
Meditation is something I never thought I'd be into. I mean who wants to sit and literally do nothing for an extended period of time? Apparently I do, and I am granted a 30 minute window every day to practice meditation out in the junkyard. I've been at it every day for almost half a year (at time of writing this) and it's kind of awesome - the benifits of letting your brain breathe are real and tangible. So I've always associated this environment with that base feeling of serenity and calm, even with the distant whirring of great machines the aura of this junkyard remains undisturbed.