Last Updated on May 6, 2021 by Red Nomad OZ
My liking for neatness, order and logic most likely explains my affinity for corrugated iron. Although the unkind might attribute it to control freak tendencies!
Whatever it is, corrugated iron’s neat rows and precise undulations, and patterns of light and shade hold an artistic appeal. This appeal actually increases as the decay inevitable in Australia’s harsh climate starts breaking the iron down.
The tiny and nearly deserted Eurelia railway station siding is in South Australia’s mid-north just south of Carrieton. It’s symptomatic of the decline and fall of the rural railway network that once linked remote outposts and delivered supplies across the country.
The decay of the unused station structures now rusting, falling apart and succumbing to dry rot echoes the decay of a rail system once the life-blood of rural Australia.
But the other side of decay is its unexpected beauty.
The fading paintwork on the corrugated iron of the Eurelia goods shed ruin, overlaid with the graffiti inevitable to a large, deserted and empty building is a stunning patchwork of colour, light and shade. And the crumbling cut-off 44 gallon drum is a prop I couldn’t have bettered in a million years …
Eurelia’s inadvertent art installation owes much to the fine properties of corrugated iron in decay. And while it’s unlikely the rail network will be resurrected in my lifetime – if ever – the clean-lined rusting beauty of its decay overlaid with fading colours and random signatures will just get better as the years roll on.
But maybe that’s just my inner control-freak talking!