Mid-September at the sea is the best! It is quiet. The kids are back to school, there are few —if — any lines at restaurants, the ocean water is warm, the mornings and evenings are cool, the days are bright and sunny with less humidity, only old folks and mothers with toddlers share the beach. Ah, yes, mid-September is perfect to be at the sea! My husband and I were vacationing in Ocean City, Md., right on the beach up near the Delaware line. On Sept. 11, 2001, we’d had our first coffees on our southern-view balcony watching the sun rise over the Atlantic to our left. I’d made breakfast; we changed into our swimsuits and decided to sit down on the common deck over the pool between the two high-rise condominiums that also viewed the sea. We read almost a book a day while there, so with books in hand, we settled in on beach chairs. No one was around, no one. We looked up on either side of the condo buildings and no one was even out on his/her balcony! How much more perfect could this be! Eventually a couple came across the deck and approached us asking us, “Do you guys know what’s going on?” Thinking they were looking for activities of some sort, I said, “I think someone may be coming eventually to give water aerobics but otherwise this time of year it’s up to you to make your own fun.” They stared and said, “You haven’t had your TV on yet today, have you?” After their brief summation of what was going on in New York, western Pennsylvania and at the not-too-distant-from-us Pentagon, we dashed up to our unit and watched the news in disbelief, remorse, numb with sadness, devastated. We knew this was real, but it was simply incomprehensible! Chuck glued himself to the TV. I tried to call the kids but phone lines, land and cell, were totally unusable there. Satellites were probably taken over by the military along our coast. We could reach no one anywhere. I ran down to the beach. I took a yoga pose, breathing deeply, and sat quietly at the edge of the sea. It was so scary. There was no one on the beach but me so far as I could see either way. There was no one anywhere! Ocean Drive, on the other side of the condo, was even seemingly quiet — traffic was where?  I heard only the ocean’s roar, in and out, in and out, and the planes, many planes — up and down the coast — patrolling, watching, waiting. We were under attack. And I was alone at the sea. My tears were ongoing and slow. This simply could not be. Yet it was. No one knew anything more than the fact that we were under attack. I said to God: “Why? Why?” And he spoke not, for he cried beside me there. Ruthmarie Brooks Silver lives in Lower Providence Township, Montgomery County.