My memory of Russ is warm and makes me smile. I can still feel the give of the forest floor as we hiked together through it, always listening. I first met him in 2005 when I was working at Mt Rainier on the wildlife crew. On the first day we went out to do an owl survey, we first swung by his house to pick him up. A tall lanky man, in his late 60’s climbed into the truck. I think the five crew members and I all had the same thought, how was this guy going to keep up?

The first time you participate in an owl survey there are so many sensory impressions bombarding you. It’s April, the snow still skirts the trees and the air is crisp and fresh. You are weighed down by a field backpack which you just got, having jammed in the pile of gear given to you for the season. Compass, map, flagging, radio, batteries, whistle, first aid kit, field notebook, tree tags, binoculars and more random things you have never seen or used before.  The trees and snow seem to swallow up any sound, and the world around you is quiet in a way that penetrates your bones.

I remember feeling awkward in the snowshoes. The world around me so airy and serene, while I lumbered through, loud and uncoordinated. The rest of the crew seemed as unnatural as I did. Trying to take in what our lead was teaching us about that particular owl territory we were entering; wielding our plastic turkey whistle that supposedly could sound like an owl call if we got the cadence right.  Russ was the only one at ease on the snow; his snowshoes crunching as he passed us all by, the only one without a whistle.

We came to respect him very quickly that day. We had underestimated him. He was lithe and adept at traversing the tree trunks, slopes and watery streams, his owl call although soft was natural from his lips, unlike our toy whistles. A skill we looked on with envy.  The large pack seemed like a feather on his back, while ours pulled us off balance and slowed our pace. His manner was kind, almost humble toward us, as if his rank as a volunteer lowered him beneath us. Years of experience in the park didn’t seem to calculate in to his demeanor, even though he was by leaps and bounds ahead of us in knowledge and skill.  He was quiet and respectful that day, listening to our lead talk about how to call in an owl and what to do once you did, even though he had most certainly heard this talk before at the beginning of each season. I know I was not the only one wondering why he had bothered to come on this training session. Later we learned, for Russ, it was all about just being out there in the park, in the forest.