Slimy, sticky little things, which as a general rule of thumb, are not good for cultivated gardens. My natural reaction was to pluck the little buggers from my garden and toss them out into the street. I didn’t do this to be mean. I don’t have any personal vendetta against the slow-moving little brown critters. But I did want them out of my garden. I wanted them to leave my pretty little succulents alone.
But there I was, with Yamas and Niyamas and all sorts of yogic principles, floating around in my head as I gardened. I found myself feeling reluctant to toss them out onto the asphalt to either die for the force of their landing or be crushed by the next car that whizzed past. But they couldn’t stay in my succulent garden either!
So, I started gently using my thumb and forefinger to pluck them up by the shell, and walk them away from the garden, out to that little patch of grass between the sidewalk and the street. I’d set them down in the grass, wish them the best of luck, and feverishly hope that they wouldn’t find their way back to my succulents.
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