Each of our sons has brought his family for a visit this summer. For several summers we have hosted everyone at once, including cousins. After last year’s reunion, we acknowledged to one another that we were just too old (too tired, too house-proud?) to have thirteen people in our home. We are sorry to let that long weekend go but relieved too.

Friday, our younger son and daughter-in-law brought their two. Ruby has been in the ocean a dozen times, never wearing a bathing suit. She told me she only wears her suit in a pool or “a lake or something.” There has been one dress or another hanging on the line since Friday afternoon. Logan is content digging in sand and collecting crab claws. He is a preschooler and pissed at the cape, well below the high tide line. There is an excuse for little children the better part of half a mile from a toilet.

Last evening, before the sun set and well before darkness, fourteen people and three dogs staying in a local rental house partied on the beach. They were loud and drinking and put an entire log on their fire. One very drunk woman walked up our path and deliberately used our sitting log as a partial screen while she pissed. From my window I watched her reveal her pale butt and simply could not believe it. I walked out to tell them that I lived here and my grandchildren played where she pissed. She said she was sorry. Sorry? “What were you thinking?” I said. “What do you want us to do?”

In November this might not be such an issue. In late fall and winter, the tide washes up high into the rocks above where this woman squatted. But this is August. The tide mostly leaves fifty or a hundred yards of dry sand, with the occasional sneaker not coming anywhere near that spot. Which is to say: We should not be expected to live with her drunken blunder for months.

People on vacation. People out of the city. People to whom the rules of common decency do not apply. They were, perhaps unsurprisingly, a youngish, affluent, white group. Fourteen adults, one of whom could not be bothered to walk back to the rental house to take a leak. People who think it’s okay to piss in public if there is not so much of the public around.

In past summers children have built rock castles in our path, adults have accidentally kicked rocks into it. A man once built a fire in a wind-sheltered spot in our path through our hedge (which is not actually public property). People have come into our yard to take wood for their own beach fire and routinely dismantle laid fires we have set up on the beach.

Clearing our path and setting the log with stones to make it steady was the work of several days. That log has been used by many people this summer. Old couples have rested there. Young couples have sat and watched the sun go down. We have sat on the log ourselves, of course. Gary vows that this is the last year he will build a “fort” for our use. It’s too bad.