Early summer morning, as the sky began to turn white. Guest, waking up earlier than usual, wandered out of the house with only a smartphone and a wallet in hand. The morning air was cool and refreshing, as if the sweltering heat of the daytime were a lie. The cicadas had not yet begun to buzz, and a silence carrying the remnants of the night enveloped the area.

An early morning walk isn't bad once in a while. Entering the lightly maintained forest path, a cold yet gentle breeze from the lake stroked the skin comfortably. Taking a deep breath, the scent of slightly damp earth and flowers blooming somewhere far away filled the nostrils.

As I walked slowly along the path, I suddenly sensed something moving in the grass at my feet. Looking down casually, a small dragonfly was clinging to the stem of a plant near the water. Its wings were not yet fully extended and bore a faint bluish-purple tint in the morning light.

It seemed to be in the middle of emerging. However, its posture looked somewhat unstable, as if it might fall at any moment. It was rare; I might never have seen a dragonfly in the very act of emerging before.

After observing for a while, the dragonfly's body suddenly tilted. The exuvia it was using as a foothold slipped from the plant stem, and along with its mid-emergence body, it fell to the ground.

"Ah," I let out a small cry and softly approached the dragonfly on the ground. What should I do? I've heard that during emergence, the body and wings are still soft. If I touch it carelessly, even if it manages to emerge, its wings might become deformed.

With caution enough to hold my breath, I gently pinched the exuvia part and lifted it, placing it so the exuvia caught again on a thin reed stem growing from the lakeside grass. Believing that it would surely be okay here.