All seems right with the world on those glorious blue-sky days in spring. While most of the tourists headed north towards the Jefferson Memorial, I walked south, towards the tip of Haines Point. Rows of gnarled cherry trees held their pale blossoms skyward. A few boats floated up the Potomac. City noises faded, replaced by the breeze ruffling through an old willow and the occasional gravely hiss of bicycle tires zooming along the pavement. All is calm. All is bright.