Salt

Sool

Endless steppe scorched by the sun heat, wind. This is Altai edge. The very border with Kazakhstan. More recently, in these places, in the wavering haze of sultry strings of camels walked in the air. They carried salt, which is indispensable no lunch, breakfast or dinner. Now, instead of camels, trains run along the railroad tracks, but the carriages still have the same salt. The railway tracks go straight into the lake. In the distance you can see some strange, working unit. The water is crimson. Feeling like ended up in another world.