I already wrote that I like Tula’s old streets for their mellow beauty, half-erased by time, but still present. Walking here you get a feeling of harmony, which stems from the area’s architectural uniformity.
Balance of history and architecture is clearly perceivable in this area despite the fact that many of these old houses are dilapidated.
In the spring old gardens and orchards in bloom offset marks left on these streets by merciless years. On the contrary, signs of time become more obvious against old snow in late winter or dust in the middle of summer. But Fall, with its greys and browns, suits the weathered wood and stone of these houses better, I think. In the Fall these streets blend with the dark sky, leafless trees and the rain. Imperfections dissolve and what remains is a watercolor painted with just a few but deep earthy colors.
Sometimes, though, modernity clashes here with history. Like the orange and the green of a hardware shop on the following picture.
Or graffiti on the wall with a church in the background.
Or even an old tractor, probably a survivor left from the Soviet times, charmingly draped in a similarly old and similarly representative of those times rug.
You stumble on these inconsistencies with the area's general mood. But then, of course, you can always zoom in.