ianhil
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On an evening paddle between Apostle Islands, Lake Superior is pure glass. The colors of a setting sun explode from above and below, with nothing in between but...
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On an evening paddle between Apostle Islands, Lake Superior is pure glass. The colors of a setting sun explode from above and below, with nothing in between but my companion and the horizon. Strokes of a paddle send flurries of light, disrupting the peace of this place. As such, progress is slow; but who would want to move quickly through an experience like this?
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