I just love dogwood blossoms: when they are in perfect conditions they are so beautiful and minimalist-elegant… I stumbled upon this particular blossom in Yosemite National Park and it immediately struck me, so much so that I felt I needed to stop to photograph it.
As soon as I saw it, I realized the image I would make of it would be a pretty strong metaphor. It would carry a message that beauty is fragile and transitory: the blossom appears perfect in its delicate beauty, but the twig that supports its very life is broken, like a stark premonition of the fate that is looming over the now perfect blossom. In my view, the somber mood of black & white complements well the message that this image intends to convey.
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