The sun rose over the island in the early morning while I went to the beach. It's the time of the day when wildlife is still around, and the tourists are asleep. I saw a dozen deer running from the underbrush. They darted into the pine-covered dunes. A bit further, I saw a rabbit; like the deer, it quickly retreated into the safety of the woods. Where the woods and the dunes meet, I noticed a pine chafer, a rather large beetle with distinctive features that make it easy to recognize.
The poor guy needed help. It had landed upside down in the soft sand and couldn't turn back onto its six feet anymore. I quickly searched for a small branch from its preferred habitat—the pine tree—and extended it toward the beetle. Like a shipwrecked sailor clinging to a lifeline, it grasped the wood, allowing me to gently place it on a bed of fallen pine needles nearby.
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