Pecker

I was sitting at the computer desk in my parents' house when I heard it.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

It sounded almost like someone was tapping at the glass on the windows in the room. Startled, I looked around to see what it was. Nothing. But the noise persisted. Tap. Tap. Tap.

Must be a tree branch hitting one of the other windows, I thought. I got up and went into the bathroom and peered out the window. No tree was close enough to the glass, but the tapping noise was even louder. I went over one more room into my brother's old room, where the noise faded a bit. It must be hitting the bathroom wall, I thought.

Heading back into the bathroom, I put my forehead against the glass and craned my neck upward.

There he was, a tiny little woodpecker, perched on the TV antenna, hammering away at the eaves of the house.

"Hey!" I said, rapping swiftly on the glass. "Hey!" But he went on pecking, undisturbed. I banged harder. "Hey!" At one point, he looked down to see where the banging was coming from, and then resumed his pecking.

I quickly pulled on my boots and headed outside. As I came around the corner of the house, he saw me and flew away. Looking up just under the roof, I saw he had already done some work--there was a hole with a diameter of about an inch and a half.

I came back inside and sat down at the computer again, but not five minutes later, he had returned. Tap. Tap. Tap. This time, I opened the bathroom shutters and pushed the window open to shout at him.

When Dad came home just shy of an hour later, I broke the news.

"Did you know you have a woodpecker working on your house?" I said. "No!" he said. "Must be the one that used to be in the tree we cut down out front."

Sure enough, a few minutes later, the woodpecker was back, digging away for unseen insects. Dad went out to chase him away, but the sight of the newly chipped hole in the house sent him immediately out for some bird control--a BB gun.

Half an hour later, Dad was reading the directions for loading his new toy. "You'll shoot your eye out, you know," I said, laughing.

Getting the bird, however, is going to be a challenge; he's a slippery little bastard that sees you coming around the side of the house and flees immediately. So a clean shot would require approaching him from behind, which may be rather difficult.

Maybe the sight of the gun was enough to give him a fright--because he hasn't been back all afternoon.

Ah, nature. I love it!