#spring roads

Bushmin Village; March 7, 2025 A muddy road led to a half-felled forest belt, which not so long ago resembled an impenetrable tunnel, hiding you from the more majestic parts of the surrounding forest. A short chain of badger tracks leads to a string of pillars. There doesn't seem to be a single soul around, only the distant cackle of geese and some barely distinguishable sounds from the neighboring village, located about three kilometers away.

A house has settled in a cluster of trees by the road. As I was told about six months ago, an old man lives there. He also has a guard dog in his yard, which I did not see, but I heard. And this yard, the house, the dog and its owner, the well opposite – the last thing that makes the village, if it can be called that at all, still alive.

Less than ten years ago, there weren't many more houses here, including inhabited ones, along the main and only street. Over time, they became abandoned, and then disappeared altogether. They disappeared completely: not even the foundations are left. Most of the trees that were there before suffered almost the same fate. The area was significantly deserted.