He tracks at every step. Every mark in the dirt says something to him. He can tell from the stride what amimal has passed without a definable mark then a few paces on in a wet creek where a track is readable he is right. A few light paralell marks in the snow, a slight scuff, mouse tracks end. He knows an owl has picked up a mouse. He guesses where the owl took the kill where we find recent perching and a casting with mouse bones.

Recently he was in a class for handling of abused and 'at risk' children where the instructor and fellow students were white, middle aged, middle class, English teachers. It was the blind leading the blind. "How the hell can you reach a girl that is living with a uncle that is abusing her because her mother is in jail for prostitution, her father is long gone and the county won't take her away from the uncle because they don't have a place for her in foster care and you have no clue what that life is like." He felt no one in the class understood what the children were up against but since they were English teachers he wrote a poem describing the relationship between heavily abused children and god fearing, well meaning teachers that live tidy lives. What the poem lacks in grace it more than makes up for in strenth and insight.

I have on many occasions seen high school students and older run up to him to talk earnestly about what is going on in their lives. Both he and his wife are favorites with the kids.

In this photograph he is reciting the poem.