Tuesday, March 3, 2009

Colaptes Auratus

Colaptes Auratus
(Northern Flicker)

It is March 3rd, and spring has sprung. I know this not because of air temperature or crocuses or dates on a calendar. I know it because the woodpeckers have commenced their mating season. And I know this not because of some bizarre sensitivity to woodpecker pheromones, but because my ears work at least as well as those of dainty woodpeckettes.

Ratatatatatatatatatat. Ratatatatatatatatatatatatat.

Take heed, ladies! Admire my great and wondrous pecker! See how fast I can peck! (Apparently pecker speed is a positive attribute in the woodpecker world.)

Ratatatatatatatat. They do it in the trees, where it makes a natural, woody thocking sound. That’s okay. But the urban fellows long ago discovered the metal chimneys that poke out of our roofs from our gas-fuelled appliances.

RATACLANGATATARATACLANGATATATAT!

Surely the ladies cannot fail to desire such a tremendously loud pecker for their very own!

It goes on, and on, and on. The cats peer anxiously up into the fireplace flue, bodies crouched low and tensed for flight should something with monstrous anti-feline intent suddenly drop into the room.

CLANGARATTLETATTLECLANGORTATARATACLANG!!

Please find a mate soon, Mr. Pecky. Once married, she won’t let you be strutting your stuff all over the metal neighbourhood. She’ll restrict you to nice, bug-filled scrags of trees, quiet in their rotting state. And we can all settle down to domestic bliss.