While I was on vacation, swimming and snorkeling in a warmer version of the very same water, the ocean was up to its old malfeasance. You’ll recall from my last post that this house was on the edge at Washaway.
I shot some video of it with my fancy new telephone:
But now the whole thing is gone. Allow me to show you a week– no, four days–in the life.
Monday, March 3.
Sheet in sand, Monday
Fabric (drapes?) in sand, Monday
Tuesday, March 4:
Tuesday video, 9.8 tide: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kQ2ck6PRKtk
See? Only hacks use umbrellas.
Wednesday, March 5:
A message to the ocean.
A picnic house, further down the beach.
Thursday, March 6:
Willy B. Next.
Erosion control techniques: Rockpile Peninsula Project.
Senja Antilla, who makes wood assemblage-mosaics from Washaway houses, harvesting.
Only the foundation remains.
You would think, after twelve years, I would be used to this. But I still find it very scary and sad and humbling and profound. I have property here, too, so it’s personal, and denial is essential.
And yet, inexplicably, there is the hopefulness that accompanies the first whiff of spring.