Mystery bird song
Like a youngster practicing
its adult cackle
~dkm 341/365
Jurassic Garden
3 hours ago
Showing posts with label pileated woodpecker. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pileated woodpecker. Show all posts
Thursday, June 25, 2020
Monday, August 19, 2019
Round Peg/Square Hole
Holes left in his wake
Pileated woodpecker
Rectangular shaped
Pecked out at the base
Apparently healthy tree
Why the woodpecker?
Magnificent bird
Name has seven syllables
Perfect for haiku
~dkm 29/365
Pileated woodpecker
Rectangular shaped
Pecked out at the base
Apparently healthy tree
Why the woodpecker?
Magnificent bird
Perfect for haiku
~dkm 29/365
 |
| 2019, old scar |
 |
| 2012, first sighting |
Thursday, April 5, 2018
Backyard Spectator, Returned
It's been nearly two years since my last post, and I've missed longsitting outside. If this new start takes hold, it will be good for my health.
This morning I'm watching a smallish hawk with a fuzzy brown head and the shorter tail of a recent fledgling. I don't know its gender, but I wish it to be female.
She's perched high in the backyard tulip poplar, spreading and twisting her wing feathers occasionally, but not moving from her spot. Her mother (or father?) flies overhead, calling to her with a rapid repeated cackle, but she sits on, looking forlorn and vulnerable in her new world. Is she reassured, as I am on her behalf, by the knowledge that her parent is nearby?
For a few days I mistook the parent's distinctive cackle for the call of a pileated woodpecker. I thought it may have had a nest near where I was tilling the first soil of the season, and that it didn't like my presence in the garden. It probably didn't, but it wasn't a woodpecker.
When the cackler in question flew over the Ya-yas, who were doing yoga on the back deck one morning, we followed it with binoculars to the top of the neighbor's tallest tree, where we discovered it was a hawk. Our search was rewarded with the sighting of another slightly smaller hawk on the branch beneath a large nest. It tottered on the branch for a few minutes before taking a wobbly flight to another tree. The parent hawk led the way, circling back and cackling in a mode of alert protection. We think we were lucky enough to have witnessed the young hawk's moment of fledge. The parent likely had its eye on those four strange yoga practitioners who were threatening the safety of its offspring.
A little more research on the Cornell Lab of Ornithology website, narrowed our guess to Cooper's hawk, whose cry is indeed similar to a pileated woodpecker's and is seldom heard except in defense of nest. Bingo. In the days since, I've heard the cry often.
Chances are, the young Cooper's hawk in the tulip poplar is our yoga fledgling from earlier in the week, taking backyard spectatorship to new heights. I've been sharing the breath of the universe with her for almost an hour. It's good to be back. dkm
This morning I'm watching a smallish hawk with a fuzzy brown head and the shorter tail of a recent fledgling. I don't know its gender, but I wish it to be female.
She's perched high in the backyard tulip poplar, spreading and twisting her wing feathers occasionally, but not moving from her spot. Her mother (or father?) flies overhead, calling to her with a rapid repeated cackle, but she sits on, looking forlorn and vulnerable in her new world. Is she reassured, as I am on her behalf, by the knowledge that her parent is nearby?
For a few days I mistook the parent's distinctive cackle for the call of a pileated woodpecker. I thought it may have had a nest near where I was tilling the first soil of the season, and that it didn't like my presence in the garden. It probably didn't, but it wasn't a woodpecker.
When the cackler in question flew over the Ya-yas, who were doing yoga on the back deck one morning, we followed it with binoculars to the top of the neighbor's tallest tree, where we discovered it was a hawk. Our search was rewarded with the sighting of another slightly smaller hawk on the branch beneath a large nest. It tottered on the branch for a few minutes before taking a wobbly flight to another tree. The parent hawk led the way, circling back and cackling in a mode of alert protection. We think we were lucky enough to have witnessed the young hawk's moment of fledge. The parent likely had its eye on those four strange yoga practitioners who were threatening the safety of its offspring.
A little more research on the Cornell Lab of Ornithology website, narrowed our guess to Cooper's hawk, whose cry is indeed similar to a pileated woodpecker's and is seldom heard except in defense of nest. Bingo. In the days since, I've heard the cry often.
Chances are, the young Cooper's hawk in the tulip poplar is our yoga fledgling from earlier in the week, taking backyard spectatorship to new heights. I've been sharing the breath of the universe with her for almost an hour. It's good to be back. dkm
Sunday, June 3, 2012
Loblolly Toothbrush?
Him again!
Came back to deck in search of more carpenter bee larvae.
Found previous damage repaired with wood filler, but not yet repainted.
Not even dried yet.
Tried it.
Still soft.
Blegh!
Stuck to beak.
Back to bark of pinetree.
Cleaning his beak or finding more insects?
Friday, April 27, 2012
David and Goliath
What are the odds of another bird and bee story so close on the heels of the last one? Probably pretty high, considering the season, but I like this one.
My giant of a husband Moe (6'4", 280#), wages constant war with the carpenter bees on our back deck. Because I'm not fond of harmful insecticides, he keeps an old tennis racket handy to whack at the bees when we're supposedly relaxing with a nice glass of wine overlooking the backyard in the evenings. The ongoing battle of Moe vs the carpenter bees is one of my greatest sources of entertainment. It's a regular David and Goliath story. And as in the original version, David keeps winning.
Perhaps Moe will be pleased when I tell him about the well-equipped stranger who came to his assistance today. I had just returned from morning yoga practice with my yayas when I heard the telltale ratatat of woodpecker just outside the bedroom door that opens onto the deck. I assumed it was the red bellied friend that often comes to the feeder.
But no! Even without glasses I could tell by the size and color it was a pileated woodpecker hard at work on the banister. He stayed long enough for me to find glasses and phone. These shots had to be snapped through the glass, since opening the door would have scared the fellow off. Hence, they're blurry. Still, how thrilling, the gift of a pileated woodpecker. Not to mention funny. Wish I had thought to make a video of this guy. I'm not sure he knew what to make of the bee that kept buzzing around his head.
And I don't know if Moe will be more grateful for the eviction of the bee or upset with the further damage done to the banister, but I was over the moon at the opportunity to observe a pileated woodpecker going eye-to-eye with a carpenter bee a dozen feet from where I stood. dkm
My giant of a husband Moe (6'4", 280#), wages constant war with the carpenter bees on our back deck. Because I'm not fond of harmful insecticides, he keeps an old tennis racket handy to whack at the bees when we're supposedly relaxing with a nice glass of wine overlooking the backyard in the evenings. The ongoing battle of Moe vs the carpenter bees is one of my greatest sources of entertainment. It's a regular David and Goliath story. And as in the original version, David keeps winning.
Perhaps Moe will be pleased when I tell him about the well-equipped stranger who came to his assistance today. I had just returned from morning yoga practice with my yayas when I heard the telltale ratatat of woodpecker just outside the bedroom door that opens onto the deck. I assumed it was the red bellied friend that often comes to the feeder.
But no! Even without glasses I could tell by the size and color it was a pileated woodpecker hard at work on the banister. He stayed long enough for me to find glasses and phone. These shots had to be snapped through the glass, since opening the door would have scared the fellow off. Hence, they're blurry. Still, how thrilling, the gift of a pileated woodpecker. Not to mention funny. Wish I had thought to make a video of this guy. I'm not sure he knew what to make of the bee that kept buzzing around his head.
And I don't know if Moe will be more grateful for the eviction of the bee or upset with the further damage done to the banister, but I was over the moon at the opportunity to observe a pileated woodpecker going eye-to-eye with a carpenter bee a dozen feet from where I stood. dkm
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