As he was squatted behind home plate, a position some coveted, he caught the missed balls and then skillfully propelled them back to the pitcher.
He was hardly inside the doorway when he was bombarded by little children clamoring, “Daddy, Daddy” as they grabbed hold of his legs before letting go so he could set down his briefcase while at the same time feeling thankful for sea legs.
On herpetology field trips he carefully picked up snakes and lizards to examine them before returning them to their habitat.
When he caught flack for something he did, or the way he had handled something at work, instead of bringing it home, he let it go.
With camera in hand, he perfected his craft over his lifetime as he repeatedly and steadily pressed the shutter and then let it disengage.
Whether in a boat, or almost completely encased in waders in a river, he became a master of catch and release.