While communism, collectivism, worms, dry rot and casual looting failed to destroy the majestic wooden churches of Russia, it may be ordinary neglect that finally does them in. Dwindled now to several hundred remaining examples, these glories of vernacular architecture lie scattered amid the vastness of the world’s largest country. Just over a decade ago, Richard Davies, a British architectural photographer, struck out on a mission to record the fragile and poetic structures. Austerely beautiful and haunting, “Wooden Churches: Traveling in the Russian North” (White Sea Publishing; $132) is the result. Covering thousands of miles, Mr. Davies described how he and the writer Matilda Moreton tracked down the survivors from among the thousands of onion-domed structures built after Prince Vladimir converted to Christianity in 988.

Films that are being screened are advertised in a makeshift cinema located under a bridge in the old quarters of Delhi, India May 25, 2016. A makeshift cinema hall under a 140-year-old bridge in the Indian capital is allowing poor rickshaw pullers and migrant labourers to escape daily hardship and sweltering heat into a world of Bollywood song, dance and romance. With the rusty iron floor of the bridge as its ceiling and some old rags acquired on the cheap from a nearby crematorium serving as curtains and floor mats, the cinema shows four films a day. (Photo by Cathal McNaughton/Reuters)

A polar bear whose bottom half is caked in oily black gunk. A whale wrapped in striped fabric: a pseudo straightjacket. These are the messes climate change leaves behind, the things we know are happening but often don’t have the opportunity to see with our own eyes. Swiss street art duo Christian Rebecchi and Pablo Togni, otherwise known as NeverCrew, met in art school when they were 15 and started making work together soon after. As a team, the artists adorn the world with eye-popping and gut-wrenching images depicting the consequences of humanity’s actions on earth. (Photo by NeverCrew/The Huffington Post)

A student of the Orchestra of Recycled Instruments of Cateura holds an instrument made from recycled material by craftsman Nicolas Gomez, in Cateura, near Asuncion, May 9, 2013. The orchestra is the brainchild of its conductor Favio Chavez, who wanted to help the children of garbage pickers at the local landfill, and the instruments are made from salvaged materials by craftsman Gomez. The orchestra now involves 30 schoolchildren who have toured countries in Latin America, North America and Europe to play music ranging from Beethoven and Mozart to the Beatles and Paraguayan folk songs. (Photo by Jorge Adorno/Reuters)

“The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge”, “The Queen” and “Prince Harry” outside the Summerhall arts venue in Edinburgh, Scotland, where their creator Alison Jackson is holding a live performance of her work called La Trashiata. Debuting at the Edinburgh Festival Fringe and broadcast to Odeon Cinemas in association with Hibrow Productions, “La Trashiata” will feature a roster of Alison Jackson's brilliant lookalikes singing some of opera's most famous arias. The stage will be set for uncanny doppelgangers to each take to the stage and perform their amusingly appropriate song. (Photo by James Glossop/The Times/SIPA Press/News Syndication)

A couple hugs while standing near a Christmas tree made out of plastic bins and plastic hampers outside the Museum of History in Monterrey, Mexico, December 4, 2015. The humble Christmas tree has a rich history, from evergreen trees used to symbolise eternal life in Ancient Egypt to tree worship among pagan Europeans. The modern version has its origins in Germany, where the song “O Tannenbaum” is still a festive favourite. Today the traditional tree with lights and decorations appears in cities including Washington, Moscow and Beirut. Alternative constructions range from recycled rubbish in Mexico City to old window frames in Rakvere, Estonia. Whatever the shape or size, the message is the same: Merry Christmas. (Photo by Neil Hall/Reuters)

While communism, collectivism, worms, dry rot and casual looting failed to destroy the majestic wooden churches of Russia, it may be ordinary neglect that finally does them in. Dwindled now to several hundred remaining examples, these glories of vernacular architecture lie scattered amid the vastness of the world’s largest country. Just over a decade ago, Richard Davies, a British architectural photographer, struck out on a mission to record the fragile and poetic structures. Austerely beautiful and haunting, “Wooden Churches: Traveling in the Russian North” (White Sea Publishing; $132) is the result. Covering thousands of miles, Mr. Davies described how he and the writer Matilda Moreton tracked down the survivors from among the thousands of onion-domed structures built after Prince Vladimir converted to Christianity in 988.

“Sidney D. Gamble (July 12, 1890 – 1968) was born in Cincinnati, Ohio, to David Berry and Mary Huggins Gamble; grandson of James Gamble, who, with William Procter, founded Procter & Gamble in 1837. in 1912 he graduated magna cum laude from Princeton University with a Bachelor of Literature degree and was elected to Phi Beta Kappa. He visited China for four extended periods, 1908, 1917–1919, 1924–27, and 1931–1932, doing Christian social work for the Y.M.C.A and conducting social surveys. He is now best known for his remarkable and extensive photographs of Peking and North China.” – Wikipedia. (Photo by Sidney David Gamble via Duke University Libraries)

Photo: Hillcoat Riding Fu Tu. China, An Xian, 1917-1919. P.S. All photos are available in high resolution.