These are the weeks when Washington is at its best and its worst. At its best because the cherry blossoms are out. At its worst because the cherry blossoms are out.

These are the weeks when a lovely part of the city transforms into a snarled parking lot, as flower-peepers creep along Independence Avenue, rubbernecking to take in the pink powder-puffs lining the tidal basin. Gawking jaywalkers amble between the crawling bumpers, and pedestrians pause to take blossom selfies from the pavement.