A woman holding a girl reacts after Israeli airstrikes hit Ridwan neighborhood of Gaza City, Gaza on October 23, 2023. (Photo by Ali Jadallah/Anadolu via Getty Images)

A performer takes part in a religious procession ahead of the “Agrasen Jayanti” festival, which celebrates the birth anniversary of legendary Hindu king Agrasen Maharaj, in Ajmer on October 11, 2023. (Photo by Himanshu Sharma/AFP Photo)

Relatives of the victims, died in the Israeli airstrikes, mourn as they take the bodies from the morgue of Nasser Hospital for the funeral ceremony as the Israeli army attacks continue in Khan Yunis, Gaza on November 14, 2023. (Photo by Belal Khaled/Anadolu via Getty Images)

A worker harvests rice in the Sakon Nakhon province of Thailand in the last decade of January 2024. (Photo by Natnattcha Chaturapitamorn/Solent News)

People mourn at a makeshift memorial in front of the Russian embassy in Yerevan on March 23, 2024, a day after a gun attack on the Crocus City Hall in Russia's Krasnogorsk. Camouflaged assailants opened fire at the packed Crocus City Hall in Moscow's northern suburb of Krasnogorsk on March 22, 2024, evening ahead of a concert by Soviet-era rock band Piknik in the deadliest attack in Russia for at least a decade. Russia on March 23, 2024, said it had arrested 11 people – including four gunmen – over the attack on a Moscow concert hall claimed by Islamic State, as the death toll rose to 133 people. (Photo by Karen Minasyan/AFP Photo)

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.

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.

A North Korean soldier throws a stone towards a photographer on the banks of the Yalu River in the North Korean town of Sinuiju, opposite the Chinese border city of Dandong October 21, 2006 in Sinuiju, Democratic People's Republic of Korea. (Photo by Cancan Chu/Getty Images)