A Ring of Bubbles

I noticed an upturned wooden oar wedged upright against a sunken rowboat, trapping a pocket of silvery air beneath its curved blade. Pausing to watch the rhythmic sway of the tide, I glided slowly underneath the timber. With a steady, gentle upward nudge of my snout against the rim, I dislodged a single marble-sized bubble. Instead of letting it dash straight to the surface, I angled my front flipper carefully, guiding the pearl of trapped light into a hollow sea anemone stalk. It nestled there snugly, gleaming like a captive morning star.