Here in the mid-Atlantic where I live, both the calendar and the things I see from my kitchen window confirm that spring has officially sprung. The cherry tree outside my house is decked in pale pink blossoms. The goldfinches at my feeders are changing their drab winter plumage to the bright yellow of breeding season. Daffodils are blooming in my front yard. Every morning, my blue car is coated with a fine pale-green dusting of tree pollen — the same stuff that tells my smarting eyes that spring is here. Soon the lilacs will bud and bloom. Butterflies will emerge from their cocoons.