On a lazy Saturday this spring, a friend and I biked out to the National Arboretum to take in the peak bloom of the park’s amazing azalea collection. We’d never been to visit the azaleas and were expecting a good-sized garden filled with colorful blossoms. Instead we found several acres of shady hillsides, bursting with color in every direction. Unlike the almost suffocating crowds that choke the tidal basin during cherry blossom season, the park was relatively calm and quiet but just as lovely. We spent over an hour wandering through the blossom-lined trails and marveling that we could have lived in DC for so long without visiting this beautiful place.