Yesterday I was glorying in the bursting of richly hued tulips in a local community garden in the Upper West Side of Manhattan. Local citizens had converted a vacant run-down lot into a welcome sitting area of benches and flowers, open all day for residents and passersby. Cherry blossom trees were blooming and pansies and hyacinths lined up beside the tulips. That was yesterday. Today, another mood strikes, The senseless bombing at the Boston marathon alarms. An outing turns into death and tragedy for innocents under blue skies and temperate weather in a stunning section of Boston, my home town where I went to high school and college, shopped and dined, and re-visited after moving to New York. How fragile is life, how quickly it "turns on a dime." How gloomy I feel.