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.
That glittery, lit-up pig on that patina'd to hell street! Wowie wow!
ReplyDeleteI know, isn't it nuts? It advertises a charcuterie at the end of our street. Last year the pig was made of pink neon. This year the sign is new - lit by pink led lights. It's even brighter than before! I think it's going to become a landmark not only of our village but of the entire area as a whole!
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