Soldier boys at Fort Dix, N.J., learn something about guns during their working hours, as they show their girlfriends at a camp dance, December 13, 1940. In front row, playing with the coin amusement gun, from left: Pvt. Tom D'Amato of West Orange; Rose Sinkewicz, behind gun site, of Trenton; Julia Ivans of Trenton, and Pvt. Vernon Landers of Kearney. Back row: Pvts. William Sargent and William Corlies of Philadelphia. (Photo by AP Photo)

A Syrian refugee girl plays outside a tent at a refugee camp in Zahle in the Bekaa valley November 18, 2014. In October, Lebanon, which has the highest per capita concentration of refugees in the world at one in four residents, said it could not cope with more than one million Syrians and has asked for funds to help look after them. (Photo by Mohamed Azakir/Reuters)

Riot police face off with demonstrators at the “Occupy Denver” camp on October 29, 2011 in Denver, Colorado. Following a march by protesters, police moved in on their encampment to tear down recently erected tents. They arrested numerous protesters, pepper-sprayed others and others reportedly fired rubber bullets at the crowd during the confrontation. (Photo by John Moore/Getty Images)

Is it a leaf? Is it tree bark? No, it’s the Satanic leaf-tailed gecko. Cleverly disguised as a rotting leaf, Madagascar’s camouflage king has red eyes, pointy horns and a taste for night hunting: it’s nature’s most devilish deceiver. The twisted body and veiny skin echo the detail of a dry leaf, which ensures the gecko blends in with its forest home. The mottled tail appears to have sections missing, as though it has withered over time. This mini-monster epitomises survival of the fittest, having adapted gradually to become today’s extraordinary leaf impersonator. (Photo by Thomas Marent/ARDEA)

Some companies in Taiwan spend months building temples with bricks and cement, but Lin Fu-Chun's firm simply pours concrete into a giant mould and waits for it to dry. The 78-year-old Lin said his temple factory, Chuanso, needed just over six weeks to finish a building that normally took six months with conventional methods – and moulding was 40 percent cheaper. Here: An employee paints a ready-made Chinese traditional temple at the Chuanso factory that manufactures religious objects in Pingtung, Taiwan July 5, 2016. (Photo by Tyrone Siu/Reuters)

Merit: A Night at Deadvlei. The night before returning to Windhoek, we spent several hours at Deadveli. The moon was bright enough to illuminate the sand dunes in the distance, but the skies were still dark enough to clearly see the milky way and magellanic clouds. Deadveli means “dead marsh. The camelthorn trees are believed to be about 900 years old, but have not decomposed because the environment is so dry. (Photo and caption by Beth McCarley/National Geographic Traveler Photo Contest)

A woman (L) places flowers at a grave next to a mummified body during exhumation works at the General Cemetery in Guatemala City, April 15, 2015. If a lease on a grave has expired or not been paid, grave cleaners will break open the crypts to remove and rebury the bodies. Any remains that have not been claimed are packed into plastic bags, labeled and stored in mass graves. Bodies that have been stored in the upper crypt are exposed to dry and sunny conditions which means they do not decompose and instead become mummified. (Photo by Jorge Dan Lopez/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.