All the dugouts that I shot in different places are diverse in their architecture. But with each change of location, the aesthetics of the picture decrease.
Here everything looks not like in a night fairy tale or a science fiction movie, but like in a horror movie.
Time goes far too fast, sometimes you don’t even have time to realize it.
The era changes one after another. In place of the old wooden quarters, stone high-rise buildings grow.
And as it was before, you can only find out from the pictures, since everything new erases the old without a trace.
Perhaps nothing new will be built in the place of these dugouts, but the vegetable stores themselves will completely disappear.
How many villages disappeared. And, interestingly, every generation regrets what has been lost, although this is just a continuous process of replacing the old with the new.
The place at first seemed gloomy, but then I adapted and even felt coziness in some places.
It is very difficult to search for dugouts on a satellite map, since they are most often underground.
Even among the bushes and trees, these dugouts are practically indistinguishable on the map.
There is nothing on the other side of the poplar alley.
Industrial Street in the area of the dugouts has an asphalt surface, but as soon as they end, the asphalt also ends.
There is even a shuttle bus running along this street.
I wonder how vegetables were brought here before.
I still have to capture one more darker place.
I would even say the gloomiest of all dugouts places.
