I have long thought that the cherry blossoms are the perfect metaphor for so much of what happens in the nation’s capital. There is a tremendous amount of prediction and talk and hype, often beginning weeks in advance of the actual event. When the blossoms do arrive so do the crowds, driving, cycling or walking around and around, oohing and ahhing.
Much hype, much show, much motion, much talk.
And not one damn cherry.