One of my favorite parts about Sunday is the drive back into the city after a weekend at home. Every Sunday afternoon, instead of making me take the train, my parents drive me back to school. It's a nice leisurely drive and we just talk or listen to music. It's nice. These quiet, unassuming moments. It's so easy to take them for granted.As we were sitting in traffic on the Bay Bridge this afternoon, it occurred to me that I should take a candid picture of my parents in an attempt to capture the moment. How many times have mom and dad cleared their weekend schedules just to drive me back to school? How many times did I sit in the back seat and was silently grateful for that moment? I don't know. I think life is just a series of these moments, pieces of a puzzle that interconnect to tell a story. Thus this picture on its own may seem unremarkable to most, but it is a little piece of me.