The other day, when I passed Dongsishitiao, near the New Poly Plaza, I noticed a newly-opened museum that I had once visited had closed its doors.

As a location known for being the royal granaries where food was stockpiled for the emperors and their families during the Ming Dynasty (1368-1644), most of the remaining architecture is now used to house luxury restaurants but a local company had rented one vacant building and opened it in March as a granary museum.

I can still remember how the inside was set up to look as it had 600 years ago. But within a few months, the historic architecture has been converted again, and all the decoration and furniture inside indicates a caf is going to open up soon at the location.

And a waitress who told me all about the new caf, obviously has no idea what the location was originally used for and in which way it was important in the city's past. No matter how important it once was, she didn't seem to care.

As a reporter covering the news that takes place in the city's historic buildings and museums as well as the stories related to the city's cultural relics, I am often faced with mixed feelings among people toward the city's glorious cultural heritage.

On one hand, people are proud of the city's glorious past represented by such places as the Forbidden City and the Great Wall, but on the other hand, the sense of the glory is often combined with neglect and indifference toward the "historic footprints" scattered around town that do not have a high profile.

Beijing has been the nation's capital for more than 800 years. Such a history leaves its footprints everywhere in this ancient city, and they make it unique and special.

In addition to the famous landmarks I mentioned, comparatively low-profile structures also deserve our attention.

During a recent visit to Xidan, one of Beijing's bustling shopping areas, I accompanied some cultural heritage officials and was astonished to learn for the first time that the venue of a famous market called Mingzhu was originally the site of the National Institute for Mongolian and Tibetan Ethnic Groups in the early 1900s.

Dating back to the Qing Dynasty, it once housed a famous princess.

Another case is the cemetery of Qi Baishi, the late Chinese ink-painting master.

As someone ranked the third most expensive artist in the world's art auction market last year, his resting place in one of Haidian's communities has long been neglected.

Such phenomenon are prevalent. The Beijing Municipal Administration of Cultural Relics has listed 54 historic buildings citywide that are poorly maintained and that lack protection against fire.

Quite a number of historic sites still cannot be opened to the public because they accommodate dozens of residents who share limited space and the massive relocation costs would make the improvement of these historic buildings' unlikely.

During recent years, the city's relevant departments have done a lot to protect Beijing's vanishing past but during the urbanization, we need long-term and careful planning to make sure we have a sustainable use of these heritage sites.

As Beijing strives to become a world city, the authorities should continue to map out detailed guidelines about the proper use of historic buildings.

And we, the citizens, should recognize the uniqueness of them, and therefore foster our strong sense of pride, because pride should come not only from the skyscrapers and major architectural landmarks but also from the city's lovely hutong, the traditional courtyard houses, and the peaceful temples that together make our city what it is.

The way we deal with our city's past will determine its future.