Birth is a harrowing experience. Whether talking about a butterfly emerging from its chrysalis, a tadpole popping out from an egg or a human slipping out of its mother, the moment of birth is discombobulating and taxing.

Newborns of all species are exceptionally vulnerable. Some emerge from the newborn stage almost immediately. Think of cows, horses and wildebeast. These animals stand up, walk and even run almost from the moment of birth. Others, like kangaroos and pandas, emerge from the womb early and spend a second gestation in their mothers's pouches.

Most of the time, people don't think about how their actions are harming non-human newborns. Widespread destruction of wetlands deprived birds and many other animals of vital nesting and rearing grounds. The use of DDT and other pesticides weakened the shells of bald eagles and many other birds, claiming generations of young. Every house we build destroys the habitat of worms, insects and many large animals.

Out on the beach, where more and more humans are choosing to live and play, the bright lights of oceanfront houses confuse and bewilder sea turtles. Many turtles, having swum thousands of miles to return to their ancestral nesting places, turn around in fear when bright lights shine upon the place where they want to lay their eggs. Only in the last few years have widespread programs sprung up to limit light pollution on our beaches.

But nesting issues are just the start. Turtles are tasty, and far too many of them have wound up on the plates and in the bowls of humans. The only serious predators of adult turtles are humans, and we perform that job well.

Depending on what source one prefers, only one in one-to-five thousand turtle hatchlings makes it to adulthood. Most sea turtles lay about 120 eggs per clutch, so its safe to say that most clutches fail to produce even one adult. This is a staggering loss, but one that is made up (somewhat) by the female turtles, who nest every two or three years and produce two or three (and sometimes more) nests during a particular season. Doing the math, it is entirely possible that a fertile female can produce two or three adults in her lifetime. Of course, that's just replacement numbers. There's a reason turtles are endangered.

Last week, I saw a small group of turtle hatchlings struggle toward the ocean. Humans helped out and ensured that no raccoons, gulls or other creatures attacked the hatchlings on the beach. And once the turtles reached the water, the humans made sure they got right in the current and didn't simply get swept down the shore by the tide. Seventeen turtles reached the Atlantic that evening.

And I'd like to believe that they'll all become adult turtles, those majestic and mystical orangutans of the ocean. I can see the females in the group returning to that exact spot on westernmost Sunset Beach in a few years, leaving more and more nests. The image is clear in my mind.

I know better. Chances are that all of them already have been eaten by fish or sharks not a week after entering the ocean. Like the vast number of newborns on earth, baby turtles are completely unprotected from the moment they slide out into the air.

Still, it's nice that there are a few humans who watch for turtle nests and do their best to get the young to the ocean. We can't save every creature, but we ought to do what we can when we can. Clearing a path for a few small reptiles to reclaim their oceanic birthright isn't too much to ask of the most fearsome predator on our planet.

We've taken so much. It's only right that we give back.

Jon Worley does not find baby turtles especially cute, but he does admire their single-minded desire to find the ocean. Those babies know exactly what they're after.