A half-hour vacation

It's uncommon to see snow in my hometown, Nanjing. However, this year, the cold air is stronger than ever, blanketing most areas from northern to central China in snow. I've heard that railways and airlines have faced delays or cancellations since Sunday. Fortunately, I managed to get home last Friday.

Chinese Public Official Holidays often incorporate nearby Saturdays and Sundays to create slightly longer breaks, compensating for the limited number of days off. This year is no different. Consequently, we have to work six consecutive days before and after the 8-day holiday. To make matters worse, New Year's Eve falls on a workday this year.

I've been absent-minded while working from home, mainly because I have no idea what to do with my family during this time. They are equally clueless. The prospect of working six days in a row also bothers me. After lunch, I decided to take a half-hour walk before my next meeting. I grabbed my camera and headed out.

The outside was freezing cold, even in the middle of the day. It was cloudy, and everything looked plain without shadows. Near my home is a construction site for the Nanjing Metro, where they are building a new station. However, construction halts frequently due to poor funding, a common issue for projects in recent years. The local government is heavily in debt, and sometimes the constructors don't get paid.

As expected, the metro construction was paused, likely due to the upcoming Lunar New Year. Construction workers often work weekends but go home early to prepare for the holiday. Most of them come from rural areas, so it takes a long time for them to travel from major cities to their hometowns. This is probably their only chance to reunite with their families.

Near the construction site, the ruins of houses that once stood there remain, waiting to be cleared as construction progresses. Fireweed scatters around the ruins, and vehicles parked on the muddy ground are covered by a thin layer of snow. I wonder where the original residents went—perhaps to similar places, or maybe they were compensated with decent apartments. I wouldn't know.

The construction site is enclosed by temporary fences, so I couldn't see inside. Two cranes, each about 50 meters high, stand within the site. Occasionally, a turtle dove flies by and rests on top of a crane.

Few buses and people were passing by, and the vacancy evoked a sense of loneliness. This loneliness, however, made me feel free. At that moment, I was focused on observing. On one side of the road, a tree with only its trunk left stood there, resembling the crane. The frosty wind added to the atmosphere's depression, much like the plunging stock market since 2024.

The half-hour passed quickly. I forced myself to take photos of everything that caught my interest, without hesitation. Then, I headed back home.

During this brief walk, I found a moment of peace. The empty houses and still cranes reminded me of how fast life changes, especially with the new challenges of the past few years. As I returned home, I remembered to cherish the quiet moments in life.