I miss the fields of Andalucía, where the Sierra Nevada can be seen in the East from Costa Del Sol perimeters; and community is something which far surpasses the façade of being in the same room. Sliced onions in the abode of La Villa Rosetta will permeate the Milky Way on Spanish rooftops, as herds of goats amble along mountain roads. But let us forever remember that chorizo is beautiful, as she proudly displays her scent against the turrets of Algeciras. I love a fiesta, because familial chords remain uncut.