Where gently sloping lowlands meet the sea, barrier islands form. Their shapes depend upon the interplay of topography, wind, tide, waves, current, sediment supply, and often the works of mankind. Georgia's tide-dominated barrier islands are relatively wide but short along the coast; landward of them lie fertile marsh lagoons and estuaries. North and south of us, barrier islands tend narrower. Barrier islands of North Carolina and the Gulf of Mexico appear slender strings of wave-dominated sand.
Georgia's barrier islands, the "Golden Isles," have attracted mankind from ancient times; native American artifacts abound along the coast. Waters around the islands still feed us with their bounty of shrimp, crab, and fish. Heroes of the American Revolution rest there; mansions of 19th-century tycoons crumble in disuse. Marshes and woods ferment with life forever decaying and rising new.
Barrier islands are transient things; built of sand, they move where wind and current will them. Their impermanence is part of their charm. When oceans rise or fall, new islands form against a new shore.