Roadside Chapel of Cyricus and Julitta — Magic of Old Northern Roads
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  • Roadside Chapel of Cyricus and Julitta — Magic of Old Northern Roads
  • Roadside Chapel of Cyricus and Julitta — Magic of Old Northern Roads
  • Roadside Chapel of Cyricus and Julitta — Magic of Old Northern Roads
  • Roadside Chapel of Cyricus and Julitta — Magic of Old Northern Roads
  • Roadside Chapel of Cyricus and Julitta — Magic of Old Northern Roads
  • Roadside Chapel of Cyricus and Julitta — Magic of Old Northern Roads
  • Roadside Chapel of Cyricus and Julitta — Magic of Old Northern Roads
  • Roadside Chapel of Cyricus and Julitta — Magic of Old Northern Roads
Roadside Chapel of Cyricus and Julitta — Magic of Old Northern Roads
Roadside Chapel of Cyricus and Julitta — Magic of Old Northern Roads
Roadside Chapel of Cyricus and Julitta — Magic of Old Northern Roads
Roadside Chapel of Cyricus and Julitta — Magic of Old Northern Roads
Roadside Chapel of Cyricus and Julitta — Magic of Old Northern Roads
Roadside Chapel of Cyricus and Julitta — Magic of Old Northern Roads
Roadside Chapel of Cyricus and Julitta — Magic of Old Northern Roads
Roadside Chapel of Cyricus and Julitta — Magic of Old Northern Roads

Roadside Chapel of Cyricus and Julitta — Magic of Old Northern Roads

In Russian folk tradition, the Road was considered a rather eerie place, where a traveler could encounter many dangers: wild beasts, ruthless men, and of course, the Unclean Force.

Leaving one’s village meant stepping into uncertainty, far from the ordered safety of home, with its guardians in the form of ancestral graves, household spirits, and icons.

That is why chapels were often built along the old trade routes — as signs of the human realm, symbols of protective folk magic, but also as markers of places where the otherworld was especially near. Such is the roadside chapel of Saints Cyricus and Julitta, standing on a forest road not far from the abandoned village of Filippovskaya in the Arkhangelsk region.

This tiny archaic building rises on the threshold between road and pine forest. Much of its space is taken up by votive offerings — strips of cloth, kerchiefs, even pieces of clothing such as a beautifully patterned shirt — brought by the suffering and the sick in search of healing. A large wooden cross stands nearby.

Such chapels remain rare places where old folk belief still flickers alive, where one can feel the peasant spirit and touch, with clumsy urban fingers, the fragile living past.

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