In the mountains, people say that if you don't like the weather in the morning just wait a few hours and the wind will bring something new by the afternoon. In Beijing, the same might be said for neighborhoods.

I've been on the road a lot lately -- about a week to South Korea, a few days reporting in Shanghai and then off for a couple weeks of vacation. I was groggy when I returned this weekend and didn't notice until the next day that the view from my front door had changed. The new view is above. Where there once was a house, there is now dirt, and wires. And what looks like a small moat.

Well, I thought, so goes life in Beijing. 

A short walk around the corner, and the scenery there had also shifted dramatically:

A few steps more, and then this too:

 
 
 In other traditional hutong neighborhoods, this might be a sign that "Chai" is coming -- a Chinese character meaning to tear down, which the government paints on houses and walls meant for demolition. But here, new houses are being built, with nicer materials.

What gives? Perhaps a Chai connection after all.

There is a very large construction project planned to the north of where I live, in an area anchored by the Drum Tower, a gorgeous building used to mark time in ancient Beijing.

I've been following stories about the plans, apparently a sweeping demolition of most or all of what surrounds the Drum, and its companion Bell Tower, likely to be replaced with faux old buildings that will better maximize tourist spending. This is serious Chai. There's already been at least one block razed to the ground. Cue the hordes of tourists and howls of preservationists.

With that Bell Tower project announced, I'd bet prices in my neighborhood will rise, making it a good time to put a new house on the market. I thought the situation over as I wandered around, trying to factor in what I last saw about regulations on mortgages that wax and wane as the government tries to manage fears of a Chinese housing bubble.

 I looped back to my house, still mulling things over, and checked my e-mail. There was a note from my landlord. She's probably selling the place.

(Further Readings: Michael Meyer did an elegant job of looking at neighborhood preservation, or the lack thereof, in his "Last Days of Old Beijing: Life in the Vanishing Backstreets of a City Transformed." Peter Hessler's "Oracle Bones" and Ian Johnson's "Wild Grass," both terrific books, also had chapters exploring the subject.)