![Marshes of Glynn in late afternoon as seen from Colonel's Island]()
Oh, those golden isles.
The storied marshes of Glynn, popularized in a poem by Sydney Lanier, are under siege from city, county and state forces. Aptly named, the Golden Isles, are being nibbled to death around the edges by work crews intent on "opening up the view."
Who knew the slayers of the Golden Goose did it on purpose?