One hundred years

In a hundred years, the house I stayed in over the weekend will be so much luxury flotsam. Without global warming, it was already marginal, as the dune it sits on erodes and accretes depending on winter storms.

Maybe I'm just mourning the inevitable mouldering away of all bones, but it seems a crying shame to me that such a lovely spot should be doomed before its time by our collective unwillingness to step back from the deluge. At least Cape Cod Bay will still be there for swimming.