Fiesta Tropical Ale
Overhead an albatross hangs motionless upon the air, and out where the ocean meets the sky, the sun is sinking into the sea like a ship on fire. The jungle behind us offers up the languid scent of the lotus flower, and the band is swinging soft and low. The air held its breath. Once the sun finally dropped, as if on cue, everything changed. The band found a funky new rhythm, a cool breeze came skipping in off the waves and lifted everyone out of their chairs: summer skirts swayed in tempe and the beach Fiesta was on! In a far corner of the night sky, the moon looked down and could not help but smile.
