Ironic Plumes

It's ironic. During the long wait for the garden to revive, I struggled to find things to photograph. Now the time has come, blossom and regeneration is everywhere. Yet, I haven't been engaged. It's passing me by.

Maybe, this image is a stepping stone, a halfway house, a timid forage. Instead of colour and splendor, an abstracted study in black and white to highlight the delicate goatsbeard plumes. Like a mass of tiny beads, jewels of bright white, they sparkle in shade of a maple.