Foamy waves were whipping in tall and loud. I stood back and watched them assault a driftwood fort I had built six months ago, an unusually long time for the lifespan of a fort on the Oregon Coast.
Everything around me was gray and white. Rain sprinkled down. Dead kelp soldiers lay strewn about.
Years and years ago I had seen the ocean swallow one of my forts. I had dogs then and we were just off to the side, and then the fort was gone. I liked watching it collapse it vanish into the water.
I sat down on a driftlog and waited. I took a couple of photographs. I wished I had a dog with me. I need one. I’ve got to make it happen.
The waves kept coming. They wrapped around the fort. It wouldn’t be long now and I anticipated the beauty of the destruction, and then of course, starting over the next day. Or not. There might be nothing left except sand.