Rust-coloured corrugated iron rises from a mass of blackberry canes. The structure is almost entirely consumed. Only the upper half of the walls remain visible, the lower sections buried beneath dense scrub. Dry grass covers the foreground. A single elm stands tall behind the roofline, dwarfing what is left. The sky is flat and grey. Overcast light softens everything. Scattered across the hills of regional New South Wales, small postal stations served farming communities from the mid-nineteenth century onward. Many closed as populations shifted toward larger towns. Without maintenance, the bush moved in. Blackberry and ivy do the slow work of demolition that weather alone could not finish.