Photo: Pileated Woodpecker, Gary Kunkel/Audubon Photography Awards
Tom Blackburn
Like many people, I’m becoming increasingly eager to get out and travel as the pandemic eases and vaccinations are becoming more widely available. My spring wanderlust is especially strong this year because last spring the closure of most area parks made it difficult to experience the annual resurgence of nature. A week ago, I visited a local vernal pool to hear and see the mating wood frogs, one of the earliest breeding frogs in North America. My pleasure at seeing the frogs was tempered by the realization that I hadn’t been able to do that or so many other things last spring.
Pileated Woodpecker, Gary Kunkel/Audubon Photography Awards
Despite my desire to take a longer trip, I was reminded the other day of how much of nature can be enjoyed without traveling, as I watched the activity at the neighbors’ red maple tree adjoining our backyard. Gray squirrels were balancing on impossibly thin branches as they feasted on the dark red flower buds. One of the main branches of the tree has died, and its stump is regularly visited by Downy, Hairy, Red-bellied and Pileated Woodpeckers, as well as nuthatches and chickadees. While the other birds probe more delicately for their breakfasts, the Pileated Woodpecker is ruthless in her quest; large chunks of wood rain down from the tree, and the stump changes shape week by week as the birds whittle it away.
Birds aren’t the only animals that rely on this tree. Last July, lightning bugs festooned the tree with tiny twinkle lights – nature’s own Christmas tree, six months out of season. I am anticipating a very noisy May. A family of raccoons has already found cicada nymphs moving to the surface of the earth around the tree as they approach the culmination of their seventeen-year cycle with a frenzy of molting, mating and egg-laying. The ground under the tree looks as if it has been tilled, thanks to the raccoons’ search for food. Despite their appetites, I’m sure that hundreds, if not thousands, of cicadas will make it into the tree to sing for their mates later this spring. A little later we’ll hear the gray tree frogs singing in the tree.
The tree is old, and an arborist has recommended that it be taken down. Late this summer it will go, as so many older trees do, when the neighbors replace their house with a much larger one. It’s sad that such a useful and enjoyable habitat will soon disappear.