Well, maybe I’m being a little hard on myself, but in the last few days I’ve inadvertently slaughtered thousands of the defenseless creatures, reinforcing a sad reality: It’s difficult for even the best-intentioned, conservation-minded homo sapien to live in harmony with other species.

While raking leaves on the trails near our house — a twofold mission that keeps paths clear of vegetation and also provides mulch for my tree seedlings and vegetable garden — I stripped away shelter for wriggling masses of megadriles. Some managed to squirm back underground or writhe to a leaf-covered location off the beaten path, but most simply reacted the way any living thing would once suddenly deprived of protection against the elements: They curled up and died.

The worms weren’t doing anything destructive such as gnawing away floor joists that might have justified extermination; in fact they were enriching and aerating the soil. But they had the bad luck to hunker down in the path of a Godzilla-like monster wielding a sharp implement.

Though I’m not a complete pacifist — I will swat at mosquitoes and flush deer ticks down the toilet — loyal readers know that whenever possible I try to avoid asserting my territorial imperative, even over such a lowly creature as a worm. It’s a continuous challenge.

Squirrels and chipmunks have inhabited my woodsheds, which I tolerate up to a point. Over the course of winter heating seasons I’ve slowly dismantled several nests while retrieving fuel for the stove. Too bad for the critters. Lucky for me they don’t have opposable thumbs and more hostile instincts.

I’ve also split open logs from which huge ant colonies had made a home. On those occasions I shook the wood and banged it against a rock to give the ants a chance to run for the hills before being chucked into the flames. This is the most mercy I can muster.

While building a wall years ago I lifted from the ground what would have been a perfect capstone only to encounter a coiled copperhead. I put the stone back gently, deciding I didn’t really need that particular rock.

While I don’t have enduring affection for snakes, wasps, spiders and a variety of other creatures, I don’t go out of my way to eradicate or antagonize them. I often think of what Muhammad Ali said when asked why he didn’t want to fight in Vietnam: “Man, I ain’t got no quarrel with them Viet Cong.”

I don’t buy into the biblical conceit of man having dominion over all living things.

As anyone whose house is surrounded by woods soon realizes, though, there are many conflicts involving animals, and at times it’s all one can do to avoid launching a reign of terror. I’ve chronicled my clashes with ravenous deer. Skunks are an occasional nuisance. And don’t get me started on mice.Even Thoreau’s patience would be tested.

Teddy Roosevelt probably wouldn’t have thought twice about blasting to smithereens any animal that crossed his path. Though he slaughtered countless buffalo, bears and mountain lions, the 26th president also championed land preservation and vastly expanded national park system, and is now known as The Conservation President, so go figure.

I have to admit that Roosevelt’s comments about the Monroe Doctrine in 1903 often apply to my approach to the great outdoors, particularly when venturing where the wild things lurk: “Speak softly and carry a big stick.”

In the mean time, next year I’ll try to rake my leaves sooner, before the worms have settled in for the season.