In 1952, exiles in France, Nina and her husband bought a lot, built a house, and planted a forest around it to remind them of their home in Belarus. Fifty years later, this forest of memory is a real forest, with mature trees, and an understory of shrubs and small plants. I met with Nina to talk about traditional rye bread. We did talk about bread, but our talk began with a walk in her forest. In this excerpt from our walk, and I apologize for the erratic sound quality of the recording, Nina speaks about her nostalgia for home. She speaks of the night, which is the time when she feels closest to her country because at night the same stars shine above Paris and Belarus. When her family was still living she sent them letters in which she arranged with them to look up at the stars at the same moment, she in her forest of memory, and they in their forest of tears.