The dark brown waters of the river that separates the two sections of the town where I was born, was the first image that came to mind when I thought of home. Not being able to photograph that river, given that it is on another continent, I wanted to take a photograph of bread because it represents the nurturing I received on multiple levels. On my way to execute my plan of taking photographs of bread at a local grocery store, I noticed a tree near the lot where I had parked my car. The tree reminded me that home is about family and also of the roots my family provided, roots which continue to nurture and ground me. I was hoping to find freshly baked, unwrapped bread at the grocery store; unfortunately, none were visible.