Monday Reading DO NOW
I watched the gentleman glide along the top of the lake through the quiet morning mist. The only sound was that of his paddles gently cutting through the surface of the water. They carried him along in the quiet. Our own boat, tied to the pylon, gently tapped the wooden structure on which I sat. I shifted on the hard surface, getting more comfortable as I took in the serenity around me.
Where might the writer be?
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What type of boat might the boater have been using?
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