
Dad was looking through his old Beijing photographs. And there they were. The doors Dad had stopped for. The windows. The old walls. The little things that made Dad raise his camera while wandering Beijing’s hutongs (胡同, hútòng). Looking at them again, Dad could almost walk those lanes once more. So… Come walk with Dad. Slowly. First, the doors. Red against grey. Two little guardians. Dad stopped. Click. And walked on. A...



