WEARY WOODPECKER

My son Alex and I were sitting outside on a crisp, sunny, winter day. Our faces were turned up to the sun enjoying the quiet of the late morning.

“Is that a woodpecker?” Alex asked.

We could hear in the distance the quick tapping as it hammered its beak against the tree. The noise seemed to echo in our quiet neighborhood. “I have never understood how they evolved into smashing their heads into trees!” I shook my head. “I mean, really, other birds have to be looking at them saying ‘Dude just come to the bird feeder with us! It’s simple you stand on a little ledge and the seeds just fall out!’”

Alex laughed. “I’m pretty sure they evolved so that it doesn’t hurt them. By the way they’re not smashing their heads.”

“I know it’s not their head.” I shrugged my shoulders. “But it still seems weird.” I picked up my phone and began scrolling through the internet. “Oh, they really did evolve!” I looked at Alex. “It says that when the trees evolved by growing thicker bark, woodpecker’s had to evolve to be able to hammer through it.” I looked over at Alex. “That’s pretty interesting.”

“It makes sense.” Alex said as he stretched out his legs and leaned his head back.

I continued scrolling through the site.

We could hear the woodpecker begin his hammering again.

“Is it me or is he extra loud?” Alex asked.

I was still reading the article. “It says that they aren’t always so loud. It’s when they’re establishing territories or looking for a mate. That’s when they find anything that will resonant the loudest.” I had to laugh. “It’s just not dead trees either. They’ll bang on trash cans, rain gutters, even metal roofing as long as it’s loud.”

“Poor guy.” Alex shook his head. “Having to bang your beak against a trash can just to find a girlfriend.”

“Nope.” I held up the phone. “It’s seems woodpeckers are equal opportunity mate finders, because females will also drum to find a mate.” I put my phone down on the armrest of my chair. “So, they’re both head banging crazies!”

“Wow! That’s a lot of work to find a mate.” Alex looked over at me. “Does it says how often they can hammer a day?”

I looked over at him. “Up to 12,000 pecks per day.”

Alex laughed as he picked up his phone. “You’re making that up!”

I shook my head. “No, I’m not.”

Alex put his phone back down on the armrest and shook his head. “Okay, I believe you, but that’s crazy!”

We could still hear the woodpecker tapping away.

Alex shook his head. “Poor guy. Could you imagine having to go through that every year when you have to look for a new mate?”

“Most woodpecker’s mate for life.” I looked over at him. “So they’ve got that going for them.”

“Oh, come on!” Alex laughed as he sat up straighter. “How many years do they live?”

“Anywhere from 4 to 12 years.” I said nonchalantly. “Larger woodpeckers have longer lifespans so they can live up to 20 to 30 years.”

Alex just stared at me. “You’re making this up.”

I shrugged my shoulders as I picked up his phone and handed it to him. “Go ahead. Fact check me.”

Alex looked at his phone for a few seconds before taking it and putting it back on his armrest. “Nah, I’m good.” he leaned back in his chair and turned him face up to the sun.

I looked back at our bird feeders where two mourning doves were pecking at the ground. “Want to know some fun facts about mourning doves?”

“Nope.” Alex shook his head. “That’s enough fun facts for me in one day.”