Saving a Worm

Jogging along the sidewalk, I noticed a long worm stretching out across the concrete. It wasn't a rainy day when thousands slide out of the soil and onto hard surfaces. It was a normal, sunny day, and he seemed displaced. I decided to turn back and assist him with returning to his appropriate habitat. It was, after all, a few yards from where the ducks were hit. I figure I should do what I can for all living creatures in the vicinity.

I picked him up and tossed him over the fence into the rather estate-like front yard of an old brick home that I've always admired--at that exact moment the homeowner was slowly turning into his driveway. We made eye contact, and I realized that the driver only saw my hand coming back down--he didn't see what I released. He didn't smile; he just slowly moved up his driveway.

I wanted to shout, "It was a worm! A worm!" I'm just certain he thought I chucked some chewing gum or a cigarette into his yard. I felt terrible that he might think of me as a litterer. On the other hand, I'm not sure I should make too big of a deal about saving a worm...not to someone who lives in such a grandiose setting. I assume he hires someone to do the dusting, so he surely wouldn't stoop to save a worm--or appreciate someone who does.