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Umeå - Near the arctic circle at midsummer... why should it ever get dark?

It is 1 am. He stands alone on the shore of a glassy lake, a light blue sky overhead. The gentle dipping of the water the only sound as he surveys the far shore, a dark, coniferous green unbroken by human hands. A trancelike state takes hold and he flicks out another cast of his old fishing pole. He begins to reel, the rod dips, and he sets the hook. He lifts and reels, and stepping along the small sandy shore drags in a beautifull shiny being. He holds it up to his eyes, a strange sensation tickles his mind and he reaches out to caress the glossy body. Sharp spiky fins retract as the creature responds to the touch. Thoughts flow sublty below the concious plane, "Return with this catch... it would be good eating... they will be impressed... it's beautifull... so amazing... say nothing...". His eyes soften, he carefully removes the hook and gently, places her into the clean, cool, water. She wiggles and dashes off below the dark surface. He stands, smiles, and knows why he is here.