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.