I forgot how France sounds. In California the very idea of France is so distant and abstract. It feels almost fictional. When you come back to a place it becomes instantly familiar because you have to take everything in so completely; everything beautiful but also everything mundane and inclement. A full immersion where all the details make sense and the film of sentimentality is wiped. Southern France sounds like swallows. The birds have a constant, high-pitched chirp, almost like bats. They dart and dive in irregular patterns like bats too, only much faster.