I am resending this message as, apparently, the first send didn't go
through. I apologize.

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Hello Tweeters,
Stunned, overwhelmed, devastated. The ritual of checking email on a quiet
Sunday night after returning from birding the North Casacades highway turned
into moments of profound and utter sadness. It is extraordinarily difficult
to accept that I won't just run into Ruth and Patrick in the field. As
with many of us, my encounters with Ruth and Patrick were always chance
meetings in far-flung places around the state. My last was over the Labor
Day weekend when I pulled into Bassett Park at Washtucna. We talked as we
always did about what has been seen and what the flavor of migration was on
that day. We said our good-byes as we always did as Ruth & Patrick were
headed to Lyons Ferry and I was making my way north towards Davenport and
then beyond to Pend Oreille County. As I drove north, it was impossible to
consider that this was the last encounter; the last time I would see
Patrick. It was only a matter of time before the next chance meeting. Only
the where and the when were to be determined.
On this site, I have documented my continuing and sometimes humorous,
sometimes absurd struggle to find White-winged Crossbills in the state, an
utterly trivial challenge compared to what Patrick faced through his life.
I mention this species, however, because a memory of Ruth and Patrick comes
back that, for me brings a little sweeteness to a loss that is so difficult
to come to terms with. A few Septembers ago, I ran into Ruth and Patrick as
I usually did with the first hint being the Toyota RAV4 with the Goshawk
license plate (we all knew it, didn't we?). This time Goshawk was parked in
a slot in the Meadows Campground at Hart's Pass. We chatted about various
birds and this and that and I mentioned that the crossbills were big on my
target list. After checking for Boreal Owls that evening with Patrick, I
left and made my way down the pass and off to FR39 out of Winthrop. I was
going to find my own crossbills. I didn't and I arrived home to find that
Ruth and Patrick had a group of white-wings flying around the Meadows
Campground the morning after I ran into them. If I only had stayed with
Ruth & Patrick! I suspect that many of us have had that same thought
through the years.
There appeared to be a magic ability Patrick had to find great birds but
this happened because of outstanding preparation and intense and tireless
field observation. It always struck me that while a group of us would be
chatting, Patrick was constantly raising his glasses to check another bird
and seemed to find great pleasure in calling out each species, no matter how
common. He found all these great birds because quite simply, he was an
outstanding field observer.
Rest easy, gentle soul. Your advancement of the knowledge of the birds that
you loved so much and your impact on an entire community of people cannot be
measured. We miss you.
Ted Kenefick