How bizarre for a town in Florida to be doing such a thing in the tourist season. If it happened where I lived, a crowd would storm city hall. People would be fired. You just don't perform any elective surgery during tourist season. It's the one element of civic affairs that everyone agrees on.

But not here. Not in Sanibel, not in Captiva. They relish it. I heard not one complaint from the locals. Why? Not only does it speak to the contrary, New England-like island soul of the place, but it is all being done in the name of Nature. The new sewer line will eliminate all the septic tanks, which means that the mangrove swamps and estuaries and marshes will be even more natural.

I can't think of another place in the country that has quite the same relationship to nature as Sanibel-Captiva. The islanders relish all its pleasures; indeed, many of them could be described as in nature's thrall. But this is not the nature of a golf course. It is much more up-close and interactive. Here the most popular sports are birding and shelling. In the way that money rules Palm Beach and hedonism rules Key West, nature rules Captiva and Sanibel. And like such places it lives in a world of its own.

Break or initial cap

Nature was certainly kind to the islands. In a competition of Florida barrier islands, they would probably place first in natural beauty. They are lusher than the Keys and lack that scruffy look that some of the islands to the north have. The reason must be the latitude they fall at. Whatever it is, it's perfect for a spectacular range of trees and plants-oaks, pines, palms and more sea grape than you have ever seen in your life. Everywhere there is shade, and the prettiest kind-dappled sunlight filtered through the leaves, down to the shell drives and lanes that many people use instead of concrete.

Though Sanibel and Captiva lie just 30 miles from downtown Fort Myers, they remained off the beaten track well into the '70s. Since then, the path has definitely been beaten. Their home county, Lee, is one of the fastest growing in the country; and just miles away, on the mainland, things are being done to land and swamps that must bring a shudder to the heart of any islander.

I kept hearing a lot about Marco Island from the Captivians and the Sanibelians. They don't like it. Or rather, they consider it the anti-Captiva, what would have happened to them if they hadn't fought so hard.

The two places certainly are different. I imagine years ago Marco must have been much like its neighbors to the north, lush and green, with big patches undeveloped. Today it is thoroughly built up, with homes everywhere, its beautiful beaches lined with high-rise hotels and condos. I've been to Marco Island and I rather like it. I can see people going there for the weather, the luxury, the social life.

But I can't see them going to Marco for the spirituality. That is Sanibel and Captiva's niche. With so much nature staring one in the face, one's mind can't help but turn toward weighty matters. What is important in life? What is God's plan? Look at the bird on the wing-what secrets does he know?

The islands' most famous seeker after meaning was Anne Morrow Lindbergh. She and her husband, Charles, used to come to Captiva back in the 1930s, when it was more an expedition than a vacation trip. They would paddle through the mangroves, bird watch, have picnics on the beach-just as people do today. It came to be a special place in their marriage.

After the war, Anne returned alone. She was having a crisis, what today would be understood as the feminine version of a midlife crisis. She had five children demanding her attention, a moody and distant husband, plus the wounds she received when her husband's pro-fascist activities garnered both of them so much hatred. She was unhappy, depressed; and these were the days before Zoloft. She had to get away.

Then the strangest thing happened. She's walking on the beach like everybody else, looking for shells, and she starts to notice that in the design of each one, there is a lesson from nature. For instance, one shell might have two separate valves, yet fit into a greater whole. In this design she would see the dichotomy of marriage-separate but united-and draw solace from it. She realized that what she was going through was natural. She just had to understand it and accept it.