One day in August, the largest sycamore tree in our neighborhood garden was trimmed of nearly all its sturdy branches, leaving only the trunk and one slender twig to face the scorching sun and the evening’s violent storms. The space between our building and the one opposite, once filled with lush sycamore leaves, suddenly became empty and open. The chirping bird neighbors that usually gathered in the tree were abruptly dispersed, making the lights from the houses across seem unusually harsh and quiet in the night. With the sudden disappearance of this once-familiar view, many hidden areas reemerged, now exposed to the washing light of the sun. Some things faded away, while others were given new life. Perhaps for this grand tree, growing new branches will become another distinct journey of life.
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今年八月的某一天，小区花园里最大的一棵梧桐树被截去了几乎所有粗壮的枝叉，仅留下了主杆和一枝细弱的小树枝独自面对炎炎烈日和傍晚的狂风暴雨。我家与对面楼栋中间原本被茂密梧桐叶占满的空间一下子变得空空荡荡，平日里喜欢聚在树上叽叽喳喳的鸟类邻居们被突然遣散，让夜晚对面房屋里的灯光显得格外刺眼和寂静。这份原本习以为常的景色凭空消失后，很多荫蔽处的区域重新显现出来，接受阳光的冲刷，有些事物逐渐消亡，有些则重获新生。 也许对于这棵大树来说，重新生长出新的分叉将会是另一份独特的生命旅程。
Glass, Cement
玻璃，水泥
2024
photo credit: Puffer Hu
