La France.
I had the chance to remember and reflect on my time in France last night. It was as if I was remembering it for the first time. A little while before I came back to the States, someone told me that I wouldn't be able to really understand my time there until a little after I came back. You have to take time to digest everything, she said. I didn't understand what she meant until last night.

France. Independence. Doing whatever I wanted whenever I felt like it:

Stopping by a cafe on the way home from classes for tea with a friend.
Walking the 15min to the bigger marché in southeast Aix on Mon/Wed before my 10am class.
Talking to people. Meeting people.
Perusing the grande marché on Saturday morning (if I wasn't on an excursion somewhere), sometimes buying sometimes not.
Talking to people. Meeting people.
Sitting in Bret's apartment until after 11:00pm finishing our baguettes and cheese, sipping wine, debating, commenting on the birds outside his window and the warm Provençal evening.
Taking a trip to Cassis on the first weekend and hoping we could figure out how to get there and back.
Going out on the town with friends on the weekend. Sometimes coming home early, sometimes not.
Visiting a cathedral on the walk back from class.
Strolling the Cours Mirabeau and peeking into art galleries and påtisseries, entering sometimes, sometimes not.
Exploring everywhere on morning runs.
Walking to the Parc Jourdan after the rogue November snow just to take pictures.
Walking to a café down the street to study vocabulary.
Talking to people. Meeting people.
Visiting other nearby downs on the bus with a few girlfriends without else to do on a Saturday.
Bread. Wine. Cheese.
Enjoying the evening with friends in an apartment down the hall or down the stairs or a few blocks away.

Too many memories to list.