A Bed for the Tired Beetle

Heading back from the library plaza toward home, I noticed a tiny green beetle resting motionless right on the cold metal slats of a street bench under the lamppost. The night breeze felt chilly, and its little legs were tucked tight against its shell. I didn't want anyone sitting down to crush it! I searched the edge of the curb and found a broad, dry sycamore leaf. Carrying it carefully in both paws, I laid it beside the bench leg where the amber lamp kept the stone warm, and scooped up a pinch of dry cedar shavings from the mulch bed to line the leaf like a soft mattress. With gentle nudges, I helped the little beetle crawl into its snug shelter.