Summary: Earlier this month, my sons, Didi and Gege, raced around on their scooters at Stanford University, shouting with glee as they careened on the smooth walkways around the Quad. It was a couple of weeks before the choking haze of the Camp Fire would descend. On that perfect autumn day, the golden hour highlighted the Ultimate Frisbee players cavorting on the grassy Oval, the tile and sandstone arches, and the mural on Memorial Church, where my husband and I married.
