迁 Migration

自从社区开始城市更新以后，破败随处可见。

多么讽刺啊，在前进的道路两旁是一片废墟。紧锁的大门和落满灰尘的桌椅，门帘垂下、门锁生锈的商铺再也不会迎来客人；静悄悄的院子空荡冷清，只剩下零星的流浪猫偶尔路过，守望着曾经的热闹。拆迁的痕迹无处不在，像是一场漫长的告别，提醒着我们：这里的故事已经结束，而新的篇章还未开始。

这一切都像候鸟迁徙。候鸟飞过的地方，草木凋零、枯枝败叶，一片萧瑟。它们不属于这里，但这里的荒凉却是它们曾经经过的证明。社区的转型也是如此，留下了一片被遗弃的景象，可无人知晓未来是否会更加美好。

这些图片不仅记录了城市发展，更是生命迁徙的象征。在这片废墟与新生之间，冬春交接之季，我们能否回来？是否能前进？

Since the community began its urban renewal, decay has become an all-too-familiar sight.

How ironic it is that the path forward is lined with ruins. Locked gates and dust-covered furniture，shops with their shutters drawn and rusty locks will never open their doors to customers again. Quiet courtyards now lie empty, save for the occasional stray cats wandering through, keeping watch over memories of liveliness. Traces of demolition are everywhere, like a long farewell, a stark reminder that this place have come to an end, while new ones have yet to begin.

It all reminds me of how birds migrate. Along their paths, the landscape grows barren, littered with fallen leaves and withered branches—a desolation. These birds don’t belong to the places they pass through, yet the desolation is witness to their fleeting presence. Similarly, the transformation of the community has abandoned, and whether the future will be brighter remains fearfully unknown.

These images not only record the changes urban renewal brought to this community, but are also symbols of migration. In this liminal space between ruins and renewal, of winter and spring, can we come back? Can we move on?