Rust

Late one after­noon with noth­ing bet­ter to pho­to­graph, and inter­est­ed in try­ing out a new lens, I took some shots of some rusty old ship­ping con­tain­ers, and some junk stored behind them, through the back secu­ri­ty fence of the Roy­al Brighton Yacht club Mari­na.

There were logs that seem to have been used to make pylons, some of the rock that had been used to extend the break­wa­ter around the mari­na, bits of old rope and some rusty old springs hung from turn-buck­les. I have no idea what they had been used for.

One or two of the images seemed inter­est­ing so I went back again recent­ly and this time, while lean­ing my cam­era through the secu­ri­ty fence dropped the lens hood. It was lying on one of the rocks just out of reach. Bug­ger!

For­tu­nate­ly, a yacht own­er was on his way to do some work on his boat and let me through the gate. So I took the oppor­tu­ni­ty to grab a few more shots. The results are in this lit­tle PDF book.

I was going to call it “The secret min­istry of rust”, think­ing of the first line of Coleridge’s poem “Frost at Mid­night”. There’s a sort of anal­o­gy between Frost and Rust, I think. But in the end, I let that drop. The text still sounds a bit like a med­i­ta­tion on death, but I cer­tain­ly didn’t intend that. It might just be the autumn weath­er that has sud­den­ly gripped Mel­bourne. Please feel free to inter­pret the images in a much more cheery light…

As always, I encour­age you to down­load the PDF and to view it “full screen” on a com­put­er or your tablet. It will dis­play on a phone but you won’t see what I want­ed you to see.

Down­load a PDF file (7MB)

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