On the world stage, Russia is flexing its newly restored military and political might in places like Syria and Ukraine, and is using cyberwarfare to distort politics in the United States and Europe. But it often seems far less robust at home.

In particular, its rural areas — long considered the wellspring of Russian culture and identity — are dying.

Valentin Kurbatov, a specialist in village prose, moved to the Pskov region in northwest Russia in 1964. At that time, the entire region was known for cultivating flax, from which linen is made.

“Linen has this heavenly blue color, and when I came here the skies were reflected in the linen fields,” Mr. Kurbatov said over a long discussion that finally ended because he said it was too distressing. “Now the brush and swamps have returned. Even when you ride the train to Moscow, all you see is this black forest with nothing in it.”

Similar to a tire with a slow leak, villages like Baruta, 375 miles northwest of Moscow in Pskov, began to deflate after the end of the Soviet Union.

The Freedom Collective Farm, the glue that held the village together, disbanded. No longer bound by strict Soviet residency rules, the young fled to big cities with better prospects.