There was a time when Palm Coast felt like a secret whispered only to a lucky few. The roads were lined with towering pines, and wildlife roamed freely. Sandhill cranes strutted across two-lane streets. Gopher tortoises made homes along the trails. The pace of life was gentle, almost dreamlike.

It felt like paradise.

Publix and Walmart have stood here for decades, quietly serving as the town's dependable cornerstones. But beyond them stretched vast wooded acres and winding roads that made you feel like you were always just a little bit off the map, in the best way.

That version of Palm Coast is fading.

Today, the town pulses with new energy. The population has tripled. Folks are arriving not just from New York and New Jersey, but from California, Michigan, and Illinois. New homes seem to rise overnight. Forests give way to developments. Quiet roads are now lined with turn lanes and traffic lights. The skyline—once a silhouette of swaying trees—is now interrupted by rooftops and signage.

Progress, they call it.

The other day, I struck up a conversation with a newcomer outside a familiar Publix parking lot. He was cheerful, sun-kissed, and carrying reusable bags—a recent transplant who had just bought a home nearby.

“This place is something else,” he said. “Even just driving around feels like a breath of fresh air.”

I smiled. “It is. Or at least, it was—just in a different kind of way. There used to be more open space, more quiet corners. The woods went on forever. You could go for a walk and feel like you were the only one in the world.”

He listened closely, nodding.

“I just hope,” I added, “as more people discover this place, we remember what made it special in the first place. The beauty. The quiet. The sense of community.”

There was a pause.

Then he smiled and said, “Well, maybe you came here for what you needed. And now I’m here doing the same. Maybe it’s our turn to take care of it.”

His words stayed with me.

There was no offense taken. Just understanding—and maybe a gentle reminder. Places like Palm Coast aren’t frozen in time. They grow. They change. But how they change… that’s up to us.

We can’t stop development. But we can shape it. We can speak up when a forest is being cleared. We can support local businesses over chain stores. We can plant trees, protect waterways, and welcome newcomers not just to a place, but to a shared purpose.

Because paradise isn’t just a landscape—it’s a way of living. And if we’re not careful, we might just pave over the very thing we came here to find.

So yes, they did pave paradise and put up a parking lot. But if we’re wise, we won’t let that be the end of the story.


Help save the trees - 
Make a comment

The Morning Ritual: A Quarter for the News and a Moment of Peace
There was a time—not so long ago—when mornings had a rhythm of their own. Before screens lit up our faces and notifications buzzed in our pockets, there was the quiet ritual of the morning newspaper.

Avoid uttering this one phrase when initiating an insurance claim, whether it pertains to your home, automobile, boat, or RV. Navigating the intricacies of an insurance claim can be bewildering once the process is underway. Insurance companies, with decades of expertise, dedicate substantial resources to adeptly handling claims ranging from individual payouts to addressing fire, storm, or vehicular damages.