Umbrella play, New York.

We’ve had a rainy spring and early summer — both in Alaska and here on the east coast.  I keep noticing the play of movement that happens with umbrellas.  I spotted this woman on the High Line in New York.  Even here she and the umbrellas are in movement: the two umbrellas separating as she turns, the blue one outstretched.  In another minute she’ll offer it back to whomever she’s holding it for.