After a six week absence from my complex of 17 driftwood forts, I returned to find every fort vanished. I smiled at that. I have always embraced the beautiful and permanent impermanence of building driftwood forts, mostly for the metaphorical and cosmic value, but also because it means I get to build all over again and work up a sweat in body and mind.
So there I was and almost all the wood I’d used to make the complex had vanished, too. But I scraped for scraps and ended up building this fort with a brisk wind in my face on a gray morning with a sprinkle of two.
As I walked away from the fort, I knew it wouldn’t last another hour because the tide was rushing in tall and white. I have always known that about every fort and apply that lesson to many aspects of my life.