It may come like it did the last time, in the middle of a cold
and blustery January night. Suddenly the ground will begin to
shake, windows will shatter, bridges collapse, the electricity
will go out and parents will frantically try to find a
flashlight and dig sleepy kids out of bed, ignore everything
else and run – because they know they only have minutes before
the water arrives. Even worse, it may come on a warm and breezy
summer afternoon in July, when tens of thousands of visitors fly
kites, build sand castles and play fetch with their dogs on one
of the most beautiful stretches of coastline in the world. The
rumble and shaking on the crowded beaches will quickly be
replaced by a receding shoreline as the water eerily slides
away, and people will start to run, anywhere they can, to get to
higher ground – because they know the water will soon be coming
back. It will be scary, it will be destructive, and it’s going
to happen, reasonably soon. People will talk for generations to
come about the great subduc