Someone needs to write the Hitchhiker's Guide to the Seven Seas.

Today I was thinking, daydreaming perhaps, about escaping across oceans.

I've no idea how to do it, so someone needs to write a guide.  

Boatsurfing.com?

I don't want to be a stowaway, I just want to pay my way to exotic locales with honest labor.  Like deckscrubbing. Or whatever it is that boats need done to them.  I'm not imagining a sexy boat party, mind you - just hearty voyages where my labor is my ticket.

So that's a good way to introduce myself as any.  As Steve mentioned, I really should slow down and say hello.


Well, hello.  My name is Aaron.  My mind wanders and I have an overactive imagination.


Most of my scrawling is fiction in the fantasy/science fiction cubbyhole.  I like to write more than anything else, so that's what this blog is about.  The majority of what I write has some anchor in nature, hidden or plain.  That's vague, but if you read the poem I posted it is about both hidden and plain natures.  If you read my short story below that, same sort of theme.

Keeping this short and sweet! I just have to say something about the blog itself and the people who read this and my other stuff.  THANK YOU.  From the bottom of my wee-scotty of a heart.  I will follow each one of you who has shown me that kindness, and I'll make sure I check out all your blog has to offer.  In that vein, I plan on keeping my followings contained for a while at least, so I can really pay attention to what you have to say too.  Rest assured though, I will visit each of my followers at least once per day, and check out anything new or re-check out old things.

Now a little poem (really little this time) to stay consistent with my theme.  I wrote this the last time I was in Italy.  I was staying in a building that was once a 12th century monastery, with floors warped from centuries of monkish foot-traffic. I was staring at the ceiling above my bed, which had the names of monks etched into it, when this popped into my mind.

The tree will lean

And it will fall

Or it will be cut

And so will we all