As it happened, we were staying at Montauk during the second week in September while I was trying to get a good image at Montauk Point. Each morning, I'd get up at 5 or so, rush outside to check the sky and each morning it was cloudless. No good. Finally, on the last morning there, September 11th, the sky had some clouds. So I dashed to the Point and, standing in millions of mussel shells, and facing a rather brisk wind, I took this shot, right after dawn. After I returned to the cabin, we packed and got ready to go back to New York City, but I wanted one last look at the Point. There we met a fisherman sitting in his camper, listening to the radio. He motioned us over to hear the horrible news.

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