Willa Whale was swimming home when she noticed a little fish going in circles.
One circle. Two circles. Then a very small, worried circle.
“Are you practicing?” Willa asked.
“I’m looking for my rock,” said the fish. “It has a little doorway and a patch of red seaweed. But everything looks different at night.”
Willa slowed down until her great tail barely moved the water.
“Let’s look together.”
They passed a tall forest of kelp. They passed a sandy hill where a crab was putting the last pebble outside his home.
Then they came to a quiet place full of pale little lights.
“Lanterns!” said the fish.
They were jellyfish, floating softly through the water. Some glowed blue. Some glowed green. All of them moved at their own unhurried pace.
The little fish stayed close to Willa.
“Do they know where they’re going?”
“They have their own way of moving,” Willa said. “We’ll give them plenty of room.”
They followed a wide path around the lights. On the other side, Willa noticed a red ribbon of seaweed waving beside a rock.
“Could that be it?”
The fish darted forward, then returned with a happy wiggle.
“My doorway! My seaweed!”
He paused before going inside.
“Thank you for taking your time with me.”
Willa smiled. “Thank you for showing me your little lanterns.”
She waited until the fish was comfortably home. Then she swam toward the place where her family rested.
Above her, the water carried moonlight in long, quiet ribbons. Behind her, the jellyfish floated on.
The ocean had many paths, many lights, and many little doorways.
Tonight, everybody had found one that felt like home.
