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My little boat seemed entirely empty as I lashed my gear down again and wrapped my scarf around my neck. Snowflakes swished down, water lapped at my helm, and I rowed silently. It was lonely, but a good kind of loneliness; my thoughts crystalized like the ice in the clouds and at the edges of the shore. And my boat floated, delicate as the snowflakes that filled my view.Daughter of the North

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