Tag Archives: pileated woodpecker

Two pileated woodpeckers cackle back...

By Dave Bonta | Published December 15, 2011 at 8:09 am

Two pileated woodpeckers cackle back and forth. Patches of moss at the woods’ edge seem to glow in the dim light. The smell of rain.

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Two pileated woodpeckers forage in...

By Dave Bonta | Published October 23, 2011 at 12:06 pm

Two pileated woodpeckers forage in the birches, scarlet crests glowing in the sun, the sky below them in the windshield of a parked truck.

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Rain and fog. A pileated woodpecker...

By Dave Bonta | Published October 13, 2011 at 11:34 am

Rain and fog. A pileated woodpecker performs invasive surgery on a locust tree next to the springhouse, removing a malignant colony of ants.

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Colored leaves turn backwards in the...

By Dave Bonta | Published October 2, 2011 at 12:41 pm

Colored leaves turn backwards in the cold wind—still the same pale green. A pileated woodpecker’s distant chant.

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A pileated woodpecker heading for the...

By Dave Bonta | Published August 15, 2011 at 9:20 am

A pileated woodpecker heading for the tall locusts lets out a whoop with every wingbeat, its crest like the bloody barb of a harpoon.

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Morning full of the cries of woodpeckers...

By Dave Bonta | Published April 15, 2011 at 10:45 am

Morning full of the cries of woodpeckers—part ululation, part rusty hinge. Like the sounds the trees make in a winter wind, speeded up.

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To the south, the hysterical-sounding...

By Dave Bonta | Published February 13, 2011 at 10:51 am

To the south, the hysterical-sounding whoops of a pileated woodpecker. To the north, the rapid taps of a downy, that tachycardia.

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The snowpack glows in the soft, mid...

By Dave Bonta | Published January 15, 2011 at 9:26 am

The snowpack glows in the soft, mid-morning light. A dog barks in the valley. The resonant knocks of a woodpecker opening a new door.

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I pause at the door, coffee in hand...

By Dave Bonta | Published December 16, 2010 at 9:13 am

I pause at the door, coffee in hand: six juncos decorate the dead cherry, fat, motionless. A pileated woodpecker cackles at the wood’s edge.

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Dawn. In absolute silence, a pileated...

By Dave Bonta | Published November 20, 2010 at 7:18 am

Dawn. In absolute silence, a pileated woodpecker hitches its way up a locust trunk, silhouette pivoting like a pawl on an invisible ratchet.

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