For my sit spot, I didn’t stray too far from comfortable territory. Le Pavillon Vendôme, a public park, is ten minutes away from Wellesley-in-Aix and five minutes away from my host family’s house. I chose the bench on the left side of the park. a wooden and metal contraption as opposed to its stone counterpart located five feet in front of it. You can tell that this is a city park — there is work going on, sprinklers spraying, trucks parked within the grounds. There are trashcans everywhere. You can also tell that this is a French park. It’s manicured, well taken care of. Signs that read “Pelouse Interdîtes” are scattered everywhere: don’t walk on the grass!

Almost directly in front of me is a tree. As soon as I sat down, I was drawn to it. It’s an interesting juxtaposition, a towering tree full of leaves and colors right next to a trashcan, black metal, the same hat line the streets of Aix. To the left of the tree, close enough that I can follow their conversation, four students drink coffee and snack on pastries with cigarettes clenched between their fingers. The tree itself is a marvel — so thick around I could never stretch my arms that far, with two large branches exploding into a canopy of leaves. These leaves are just starting to accept the slow encroach of fall, with brown spots peppering the green. I’ve witnessed one leaf fall in the time I’ve been here, but there are many on the ground around me. The bark of the tree is what sticks out to me the most. It almost looks like it’s been streaked with paint: splotches of yellow and green adorn the grey trunk. I’m intrigued by these patterns. What purpose do they serve, if any? As I settle into my study abroad experience, it is reassuring to remember that trees traverse borders, time zones, and cultures, even if they look a bit different.