Peter Brask of Miran Forest introduced me to Christmas Bird Counts, winter wrens, and Mo Stevens. For all those I will be forever grateful.
We did over 20 CBCs together–most of them with Dan Bieker– went on numerous trips to Lickinghole Creek and southern Albemarle, and had an ancient tradition of four years running of going to Loft Mountain Campground for a late spring/early summer outing that became one of the high points of my year. Dan and I invariably referred to him in emails as “the Sage,” and this was fondly meant, if anything ever was.
Outings were usually followed by hot soup, coffee, and bad jokes in Scottsville or Crozet, though these latter actually began as soon as we met up on those mornings. Among his numerous eccentricities, Peter had no particular love for No Trespassing signs. He thought the world should be freer than it is–like it was for the birds that so stirred something inside him. You had to love a spirit that free. I sure did.
R.I. P. Sage
