The insistent cry, a short cheep, drummed through my head. I finally stopped writing and looked out the window. A pair of woodpeckers have been working on one of the trees slated to be removed. They have carved a smooth hole and are regularly seen either hammering away at this project, or sitting on the trunk calling out to each other. “Hey, look at this cool condo we’ve made! It’s facing Northwest so it will be cool all summer and has a wonderful flight pattern, right into the patio door!” I think perhaps the skidder parked just outside the front door is also probably not conducive to child-rearing.
Yet they work diligently and I’m not a woodpecker so maybe they know more than me…
Some fact checking has convinced me that they are the larger, Hairy Woodpeckers. Based on their chosen location for a home, I have dubbed them , “The Woodburys” Everett and Mabel.
The barn at my home in Lunenburg had three crusty barn swallow nests strategically located for protection and flight path. Every spring, the rafters would echo with the squabbling of the three pairs who attempted to take up residence and raise families. We always envisioned they were (forgive me Politically Correct Police) jewish couples who were originally from New York but wintered in Boca Raton and loved the Catskills. Why they chose to continuously return to our barn was never explained. The Goldbergs would arrive early, Herb made a point of sweeping out the nest before Edith landed. She needed to check out the other two sites, just in case. But suddenly the Bernsteins were there and had begun to settle into the tack room nest. The barn cats walked on their tip-toes, teeth chattering, hardly able to contain their delight of free-range, organic buffet.
I’m sure the resident creatures here will “smell the coffee,” as the Woodbury’s move ahead with their plans. I’ve already observed two nuthatches and a chickadee doing inspections when the Woodburys were off for lunch. It is a prime location, new construction and you can finish it as you want at this point! Wilson, in an oh-so-male mind, envisioned the scene differently. The chickadee hops inside for a look-see. Everett returns to find an intruder, thrashes the smaller bird who leaves a lovely soft bed of feathers as he scurries for the exit. Mission accomplished, home furnished. I heard Chickadee is so IN this year!!