Beth, above, smiles looking westward toward New York City. In the distance, the cluster of tiny communities of Fire Island dot the landscape. First, Kismet is the westernmost town, and with five "streets", is one if its largest. (No non-emergency cars are allowed on the island, so the streets are more akin to giant sidewalks.) Beyond that, Fair Harbor, Dunewood, Lonelyville, and the incorporated village of Ocean Beach are visible. Another 20 miles of barrier beach island continue past Ocean Beach, never more ranging than .5 miles wide.

Scenes of Fire Island above. At left, a naked boy with a white floppy hat plays in the sand. A white beach house supported on stilts looms in the background. At center, Orf and I (with a gray floppy hat) walk in the sand. The Fire Island Lighthouse, at 168 feet, stands tall behind us. It was lit for the first time on November 1, 1858. At right, layers of fences crisscross the fragile dunes near Lonelyville (a tiny town with a single street).

On the 5-mile walk to the F.I. Lighthouse from our home in Ocean Beach, my wallet slipped out of my shorts while taking a dip in the Atlantic. My license, my credit cards, my irreplacable student ID (without expiration), and my scuba certification card were all gone.