Woodpecker's Legacy

While Woodpecker's long beak stabs and pokes,
the ousted sparrows hover and hop
and hope he won't be long. He won't.
Too jumpy to linger; he's watchful and wary
in his black and red and white; exposed.

Now he's gone. And the sparrows,
emboldened, push and shove on the nuts
as though, the woodpecker taught them
how to be rash;
as if their feathers were suddenly brash.

poem © Celia Warren 2011

Was really torn which picture to use as I took several. On some others he looks more relaxed, or is busy pecking away at the nuts, but this one shows his alertness, a stance that alternated with his frenzied attacks on the nuts. The sparrows were hopping around him the whole time, anxious to regain possession of their feeder.

Took the photos from across the room, through the half-open vertical blinds, so the clarity's quite good, considering. If I approach the window, he's off like a shot - very sharp eyesight!

Was relieved to see him, and the sun, this morning after yesterday's relentless rain and cloud, and my late night emergency blip. Onwards and upwards ...