Menton, last French town before Italy, where both cultures meet, sandwiched between sea and the sun.

Citrus wonderland, citrus fest. Citrus dragon, citrus camel, citrus tree, citrus pop at the annual Fête du Citron.

A cloud of confetti and cascading crowd. On the beach, it’s calm. Speckles of sea glass; the hum of people and the buses coming to retrieve them from the carnival. Residual energy. Eating a citrus sugar pop on the rocks, in the sun. Everything here is alive.

I could see Italy in the distance, just across the sky.

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