The beach - Fourth of July, 2006.

Fura, Steph, Isold, and I caught the Long Island Railroad out to one of the more distant beaches of New York. We arrived late in the day and found ourselves walking against the traffic of families, groups of girls, groups of boys, and couples - all marshalling bogs, blankets, and coolers. At the beach, we slipped past the fee booth and down onto the sand. As I was gathering my courage to get into the water, the reason for the exodus became clear -- the guards called everyone in from the water as dark clouds with the fuzz of rain beneath gathered on the horizon and began swiftly making their way down the beach.

We delayed our departure - hoping it might pass - but soon we were rushing to gather our things as the wind picked up and rain started pelting us. Tana called, and was our savior, we rushed and met her in the parking lot and all jumbled into the car she had rented for the day. There followed a period of mapped and unmapped exploration, pausing for food, and ending up back in the city to watch the Fourth of July fireworks on a bridge into Manhattan.