The Codeless Code: Case 68 Decay 
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 When Banzen was a young monk, he grew despondent:

“What is the use of perfecting code?” he cried. “A module we
write under the cherry blossoms in April will require a
dozen urgent changes in sweltering July. By September it
will be a tangle of debris, destined to be discarded and
rewritten by someone else before the snows of December
melt!”

Hearing of this, Banzen’s master summoned him:

“Your talk is disquieting; leave the monastery at once.
Outside the gate is a stream that flows from the
mountaintop. Follow it until you reach the ocean, and there
walk the sands to clear your head. Do not return until your
eyes can see.”

Young Banzen obeyed. He remained on the shoreline for days,
walking many ri back and forth. There he spied women fishing
in the tide pools with bamboo rods, and men weaving nets,
and children playing in the sand.

It was the children that drew Banzen’s interest the most. As
the morning tide went out they gathered at the margin of the
receding waters, piling bucketfuls of wet sand into huge
mounds while sorting out the shells and pebbles. With each
hour the water grew more distant, yet still the boys hauled
brine-heavy buckets up the beach to moisten the sand while
the girls set to work on the summits of the piles. As the
sun swung past its zenith a mighty fortress took shape, top
to bottom, some bits sculpted or patted by hand but most of
it carved with the help of old knives and broken rice
paddles. The children lined the rooftops with tiny white
shells, used chopsticks to poke out shadowy windows, pressed
thousands of pebbles into the foundations, and dripped wet
sand from their fingertips to make tiny conifers in the
miniature gardens, one by one. By this time the tide would
be creeping back up the shore.

Whenever Banzen saw the first wave strike the battlements he
always winced; when the first delicate terrace crumbled his
stomach always sank with pity. Yet the children cheered.
Throughout the late afternoon they watched hand-in-hand as
the sea reclaimed what had been taken from it, until all
that remained of the day’s labor was a great undulating lump
of sand dotted with shells. Then the children would leave.

But without fail they would gather the next morning with
their buckets and shovels, ready to begin anew.

After a week Banzen returned to his monastery, enlightened.