Light out Wanderlust. Head us out to sea. My brother in law Steve and cousin Mark own a yacht together. Ever since around my twelfth birthday I’ve always lived within walking distance to a significant body of water. Except for my seven and a half years in northeastern Pennsylvania, where I lived down the street from the Susquehanna River, I’ve always lived by salt water canals and a bay that leads to the Atlantic Ocean. Although I don’t ordinarily spend a lot of time specifically on boats or at the beach, or in immediate proximity to any of the water, it’s always been quite interesting and enjoyable for me. Because of my always having been a bookworm I can see lots of significant symbolism in water. From Noah’s Ark to “Moby Dick” mankind has always been inextricably linked to this extremely important reality of life, and has always referred to it significantly in story telling. From the point of view of wanderlust its appeal can easily be found in the significance of what lies out there beyond all that man’s eye can see. A horizon can be both frustrating and intimidating. Many things in life can be elusive and deceptive. Once someone reaches what is currently his horizon, it’s not there anymore. It’s all relative to his current circumstances. That’s why wanderlust can be a frustrating problem, never to be satisfied.