Day 6
February 20, 2008
Sunrise. No dog. On my way to work. Skies are clear. When the sun gets high enough, it will be a bright, bright day.
No one has been here since I walked this path last night. Those are my footprints. And those are my dog’s. No person has been here. No dog. But there have been others. The woods are rodent rich. Here a squirrel dug up its cache. There a chipmunk emerged from a perfectly round tunnel. A smaller tunnel just under the surface of the snow looks mouse-sized.
I arrive at my Sit Spot and breathe deeply. I close my eyes and let the stress leave my muscles. Slowly, the birds wake up.
Nuthatch is first with its nasal “eeent eeent.” Next Red-bellied Woodpecker gargles its unusual song. 
(The Red-bellied taught me his song last spring. I didn’t remember it, until I heard it today!) Tufted Titmouse wakes and calls “Peter Peter!” just before Chickadee chimes in with “Phoebe!” Mourning Dove joins the chorus next with its sad “Erooo Coo Coo Coo.”
Apparently the Woodpeckers don’t want me use a computer program to learn their songs; they will teach me themselves. A loud, laughing “hahahahaha” is followed shortly by deep, hollow, resonating drumming.
“Show me,” I say outloud, and Pileated Woodpecker makes an appearance on a not-too-distant tree. A little later a smaller woodpecker gave a much subtler rattle-song followed by much gentler drumming. I watched it fly, but could not tell if it was Downy or Hairy. I’ll need more lessons from you little guys!
A very selective breeze blows white, sparkly powder from the brown leaves of just one tree. It’s time to go. I don’t want to go. I find myself wishing more than ever for the opportunity to go winter camping. On the way back I hear that Blue Jay and Cardinals are finally waking up to start their day. “Jay jay jay!” “Chew!”
What a nice start to the day Jen!!
Your birds are singing! Ours are still discouraged by the two feet of snow still settled over most of the ground, although I’ve heard the odd chickadee and one mild morning, just at dawn, a cardinal outside our apartment window.
The trick I use for telling Downy and Hairy apart by call is that although the trill is about the same in tone and length, the Downy falls in pitch at the end (goes down, like its name), while the Hairy remains on one pitch. As for the short call notes, the Hairy is the “H”igher pitched one, while the Downy’s pitch is “Down” below the Hairy’s.
Of course, you still need to be able to identify the pitch of the call note, and it helps to have a musical ear. I tend to think of the Hairy as saying “pik!” while the Downy says “pek”. If you want to add something to remember that, the “i” in “pik” is only found in “Hairy”.
As far as I’m aware there’s no way to identify between the territorial drumming of the two, although other species of woodpeckers have very distinct drumming patterns.
It seems like the 20 minutes sitting at your spot each day would be a great way to relax and unwind. Sounds very peaceful!