Again.
The anchors held.
Again.
At dawn, I walked outside.
The beach had changed.
The waterline had moved.
Branches and debris were scattered everywhere.
A section of fence was down.
Several yards had lost soil.
But the wall stood.
A group of neighbors gathered near it.
Garrett was there.
Mrs. Bell was there.
Even some of the newer homeowners had come outside.
One young couple stared at the structure.
The husband said:
“I used to think that thing was ugly.”
Mrs. Bell laughed.
“So did everyone.”
He looked at the wall.
“I don't anymore.”
Nobody answered.
We didn't need to.
The wall didn't need approval.
It had already earned it.
There is a strange comfort in knowing exactly why something exists.
A bridge exists because people need to cross.
A roof exists because rain falls.
A foundation exists because gravity does not compromise.
And a seawall exists because the ocean moves.
You can debate whether the wall is attractive.
You can argue about whether vegetation would look better.
You can create committees.
You can hire consultants.
You can print newsletters.
You can impose fines.
You can hold votes.
But none of those things change the physical reason the wall was built.
Water still rises.
Soil still erodes.
Storms still come.
That was what Karen had forgotten.
She thought the neighborhood existed to serve the people living in it.
The ocean reminded us that we were living in a place that existed long before us.
We were visitors.
Temporary ones.
Our houses were temporary.
Our gardens were temporary.
Our rules were temporary.
Even the seawall was temporary.
But while it stood, it had a job.
And it did that job.
Years later, when I finally decided to sell the property, the buyer asked about the seawall.
We stood on the rear patio.
She was an engineer.
She had already reviewed the county records.
“You maintained it well,” she said.
“I tried.”
“Do you have the original plans?”
“Yes.”
“The repair permits?”
“Yes.”
“Inspection records?”
“Yes.”
She smiled.
“You really kept everything.”
I nodded.
She looked toward the water.
“I'd like to keep it.”
“The wall?”
“The property.”
I smiled.
“That would be the idea.”
We completed the sale two months later.