New buds and a New York City side-garden in the middle of the Passover holiday. As always, I’m drawn to the combination of concrete and organic materials, the new bright green and the dark branch. The iron wrought garden furniture has been in my family for nearly 50 years. A circular thing and finally over, each year the holiday digs in just a little bit deeper. Outside it’s night. A friend on FB wonders why it’s easier to conceptualize disruption and disorientation than it is to get a bead on happiness, but I’m not sure I’m of one mind with him. A contingent thing, the passage of time can be gentle under the right conditions, when marked by sympathy, family, and friendship. As for the sudden surge of sentimentality, I think I’ll blame it on the influence of Moses Mendelssohn. Despite knowing well enough the degree to which this is an untrue statement, sometimes it appears or feels like everything is put together just right, if only for a moment. What is one to do with a sentimental thought?