When I see a snail sliding slowly across the hazardous pavement, I sometimes like to pluck it from its seeming potential crackling death by foot and place it in a nearby leafy rainy domain. I then can spend time ruminating that I have removed it, without permission or consultation, from its mission or its fate or its journey no matter how hazadous it may seem. I have been a large, human, well-meaning god, plucking it from A and putting it in B. Maybe I have separated it from its family (who it was on its way to) or even put it in the way of another danger. It could take snail years for it to get back on the path from which I removed it and anyway that path will not be the same once it’s back on it and it may get splattered anyway after all my good intentions.
I sometimes wish I could be plucked from my path and placed in a happier domain.