I woke up a little late today, so by the time I made it down to lower Manhattan (on foot), most of the area had been cordoned off, and the twin towers had collapsed already. I was only able to photograph the aftermath, the monstrous, slow-moving mass of smoke as it digested the blueness of the sky. It was misery to behold, but what newscasters didn’t talk about was the strange juxtaposition of tragedy and calmness.

New Yorkers, known to the outside world perhaps best for their excitable nature, are also capable of a staggering brand of indifference — sometimes out of spite, but sometimes too perhaps out of a numbness resulting from years of aggressive living and living among aggressors. That was very much in effect just outside of ground zero, beyond the police perimeter — people walked and chatted on their mobile phones (contrary to reports, I saw dozens of people using their phones successfully), some laughed mildly, some looked disturbed or quiet, but no one was in hysterics. I don’t say this to condemn my neighbors or take away from the tragedy, but to offer an added layer of depth to what’s available through news sources. It was a truly bizarre day.