You were lost. Stranded on a concrete path. On the way to nowhere. Far from food and water. Farther from home and hope than you knew.
You didn’t mind when we intervened. We carried you in careful palms. Wind in your face. Legs suspended. Each step we took felt like a mile.
You were ready to roam when we reached your desert oasis. We lowered you to the water’s edge. Your feet touched the ground. You never looked back.
You were found.
Mark Johnson Stories 
Do you ever worry that you’re ruining some critter’s grand plan when you help out? Sometimes I’m trapped at work without a car (teenage daughter uses it too) and I walk home. People I know stop to give me a ride. I accept out of courtesy, but I was looking forward to the walk. ‘course, I’m not a turtle.
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Good point, Jeff. We considered that. If this critter hadn’t been so far off course we might have let it be. In this case, I feel like we did the right thing.
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It felt go ou d to rescue this turtle from the alley near our home.
We’ll never forget him!
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Perhaps picking him up could be part of the grand path too, who can know for sure?
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