When spring is supposed to arrive, that is to say by the calendar, my woodpecker reappears. I’ve come to think of him (her?) as a pet that I don’t need to take care of. Every morning at 8:20 he’ll arrive and play Reveille by way of taps, assuming it’s not raining.
A favorite ritual of mine is to gaze up at the tangle of branches and vines, trying to locate him. It takes patience, but it often pays off. You need to look for the tell-tale jackhammer head doing the work. I’m always amused when I site him, that such a loud noise can come from the work of such a small bird. Have you ever noticed how often that’s true in real human life as well? Many of the giants in science, industry, education – many appear unassumingly small in social stature.
Among the tangled branches and vines, they laser-focus on the one important task at hand. Sometimes all of mankind benefits from their focus. I’m not convinced that my pet woodpecker contributes greatly to the well being of all other birds, but he certainly helps me. ~TH~