Fisherman’s Paradise

A long time ago there was a town called Surf City, where the land was such, beneath the ocean, that it made the fishing plentiful for all who cast a line into the water. There was a little swing bridge that opened to residents and visitors alike; it made a welcoming sound as the cars passed over it. The small, little, town was friendly and peaceful and welcoming to all who came there. Children played in the sand dunes and the marshes and life was pleasant. God looked at it and said it was good. The city planners agreed with God and said that Surf City was Everyman’s island, where anybody could afford to visit.

Fast forward thirty years: there is only one fishing pier in Surf City left from the time when it was known as the Fisherman’s Paradise. The sand dunes have been destroyed to make way for houses that have people in them only 8 months of the year. The marshes are not protected and many have been destroyed to make room for even more houses. Much of the shell fishing has been destroyed too, because of the houses and roads built and some groups are even fighting the rights of fishermen to fish.  Gone is the little old bridge that ushered folks into a certain way of life. Rather, there is a newer bridge–bigger and better and more conducive to the ever growing population.

God looked at this and…well, let’s keep God out of this since when it comes to the development of Surf City it is evident that He wasn’t even considered.

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