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Bayamón Do you know what I miss most? The intangibles. Those little things that make you smile absent-mindedly... The little details that mean home and make your inner-child feel loved, safe and contented. These days I live in the asphalt jungle. I miss the smell of wet terrain, grass and rock after an afternoon shower. [There's an old song that says that in Bayamón it rains every day; and it does!] If you could bottle that smell, I'd use it all winter long to chase away the Caribbean Blues. Mostly, I miss the exotic beauty of Mami's wild garden; its rich, tropical flora and its tiny inhabitants with whom I played holds some very fond memories.