But this one wasn't scuttling - it was travelling slowly along on its back. I looked closer.
It was surrounded by dozens of satellites - a colony of ants was moving it from the car park to the garden - this cucuracha was breakfast. Or to put it another way - toast.
Quite why the ants decided to detach two legs and leave those behind remains a mystery.
A much prettier sight ten minutes later was this flower -
I think the plant is a variety of palm because the flower looks just like the precursor to the huge bunch of dates that at the moment adorns a tree outside our local bar.
They aren't the kind of dates you buy in the shops - only the birds eat these, as one fledgling was doing right in front of my feet yesterday. Its parents were yelling, "Danger!" but it was far too intent on pecking at its date to listen - what do parents know anyway?
This little chap, on the other hand, knows exactly where his next meal is coming from. Every morning he flies into the same cafe in Las Galletas, perches on a chair and tweets.
'Un trozo de pan, por favor!'