All summer I've dreamed of a day so bright and warm, of the sun so high and yellow. I'd be lieing on the sandy beach in our little fishcamp. There would be no mosquitoes bothering me and no little kids either. My mom and dad wouldn't be nagging at me to do the dishes because they would already be done by one of my sisters. My brother wouldn't be teasing me, because he'd be in Marshall with his friends. The scenery would be so peaceful, with all the birds singing in the willows. Every now and then I'd see fish jumping in the river. Then, when the sun went down I'd make a large bonfire with all my sisters. We'd roast marshmallows and hot dogs. We'd all be talking about girl stuff, guys, and not be arguing over clothes and make-up. About an hour later, the moon would come out and we'd look at all the stars and the northern lights. As I watched a duck and its ducklings pass by in the water, I would see the waves moving with a silent motion in the moon's reflection.

In my daydream I can also see some excitement. While we walked the cabin, my mom and dad are outside. It is scary to see my dad shotgun in his hands. They are listening to a bear in the trees. My dad is walking slowly toward the sound. After five very long seconds, we hear a gunshot. Then my dad comes out of the trees smiling. He shot the bear in the heart.

In my daydream I can also hear a cub crying not far from where we're standing. All night we look for the cub, and finally, we find the cub in a hollow log. We put it in a gunny sack and bring it back to our camp. Early that morning put the cub in our smokehouse and feed it one Chum salmon. We're thinking of taming the cub, and then when it's old enough letting it go in the wilderness.

But my summer daydream ends and I'm back to the same old mosquitoes and taking care of little kids. If only dreams could come true.

By Angela Kameroff