“It was a gloomy day on the island and a hike through Caumsett (after the Matinecock meaning “place by a sharp rock”) towards the Long Island Sound was in order. The clouds hung over the water and it felt like life was on pause. Slowly the stillness and silence became deafening. It felt like the only life and movement on the beach were the starlings shooting in and out of their nests dug out of the steep brown cliffside that was barely holding off erosion. I looked out onto that black water toward New England squinting to hear the pulsing of that green light from the pages of Gatsby. I did not see... ”
