My phone’s camera went down midway on this voyage. No matter how many videos and files I off-loaded, it would not restore itself. It’s done. It’s tired.

But before the camera expired, I got this picture. I took it standing on a wooden walkway that leads up from the river ships to the proper path around Kizhi Island. This walkway happens to be curtained by lush groves of birch trees. A row of plaques identifies each variety’s botanical name. (Who knew there were so many kinds of birch trees?)

It’s easy to step off the walkway and dart into the adjacent woods. A number of Russians were doing just that, returning with armfuls of giant mushrooms. Overall, one would try to be discreet about such a detour, yes? After all, the Island of Kizhi, with its unique ensemble of historical churches, has been designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site.

But do mushrooms off the path belong to UNESCO? Not according to one little boy who emerged displaying his hefty catch, shouting for all to hear: “Look, I found mushrooms!” His mother followed quickly behind, shushed him, and they continued along the path, the prized mushrooms tucked into her satchel.

When I first came to the USSR in 1981, it would have been impossible to visit Kizhi Island. The legendary Church of the Transfiguration, with its cascade of 22 domes covered by notched aspen shingles, was familiar to anyone who studied Russia. But it’s not a place you could just go.

Times have changed. Hank and I first sailed into Kizhi in 2013 when I led my first Smithsonian Journeys tour up the northern waterways. We arrived right after sunrise. The island was shrouded in mist. And towering above the mist was the Church of the Transfiguration, just as we’d expected.

But the church seemed to float on sticks. Indeed, it did float: the wooden walls of the first floor had been removed for restoration.  Restoration, in this case, meant replacement with new logs, a requirement every century or so. The open walls allowed one literally to see straight through the ground floor, as though the house were built on those iconic chicken legs of the hut of Russian witch Baba Yaga. I suspect that’s not the right metaphor for a church, but it’s what came to mind.

Kizhi Island has a goodly amount of tourists now, but it’s still hushed and peaceful. On Saturday, it was glistening with early hints of autumn. Cold winds will come soon. Waves of snow will follow.

But for now, the leaves are turning color in isolated patches. Each birch tree shakes a few flakes of gold into the breeze. The grass is moist and cool. And the colors of water and sky dance together.

My camera was still working as we ascended that wooden walkway. I stopped, briefly contemplating my own excursion into the woods for mushrooms. Then I thought better of it, turned around, and saw this palette of colors. The picture came surprisingly close to capturing the beauty that lay before my eyes. I hope you will enjoy it.