This flurry of pink has no business living where I found it last year, at the end of the crumbling asphalt between  Farm and Fleet’s parking lot and the the Dane County Mental Health Campus.  Rosey buds accumulate in isolation now, but sometime not so long ago,  someone had greater ambition for this tree than obscurity.  Did they plant her for a memory or for the future; or as with most acts of love, with hopes of both in mind?