Pileated Peckerwood Parents

I heard someone banging on the side of a tree in the woods and decided to go see what was up...

That it was a woodpecker was no great surprise, but that it was a Pileated Woodpecker, completely lost in the head-banging meditation required to hollow out a proper nest cavity in the side of a tree, was. It was one of those ‘Pinch me. I must be dreaming’ moments. I’m still a little bit ‘butterflies in my stomach’ over it all.

He quite certainly saw me approach. Even stopped and looked me over a few times as I slowly edged in closer. But He seemed far too invested in his woodcarving venture to consider me a serious threat. So we made a deal. He continued to chip away at the tree before him, I tiptoed, tried not to make any sudden, alarming movements, raised and lowered my camera slowly and continued to marvel. So far it seems to be working.

Pileated Woodpecker (Dryocopus pileatus)

pileum, ˈpī-lē-əm 

noun

plural, pilea ˈpī-lē-ə 

: the top of the head of a bird from the bill to the nape

pileated

adjective, pilēˌādid

The definition of pileated is having a crest covering the pileum (top of the head of a bird from the bill to the nape).

Stunning, isn’t he? And btw, yes, this fella is a future Papa. See that triangular, red chin bar? The red mustache, if you will? Proof of potential papa-ness. Momma’s moustache is dark grey, just like Great-Aunt Blanche, as you can see in her angelic portrait below.

She is a winged goddess. Stunningly beautiful!

Though not terribly rare, Pileated Woodpeckers have always seemed more elusive to me than many of their smaller woodpecker cousins… their loud, staccato, whinnying calls, more a ‘friend of Tarzan’ or ‘voice crying in the wilderness’ sort of thing, piercing the woodland solitude almost hauntingly, but nearly always from some distant, shadowy, deeply wooded ‘somewhere else,’ as well, and usually a place well beyond my vision.

Late afternoon light. This is the male early on during our first encounter. The hole was maybe four inches deep at that stage and I think he was still trying to sort me out. Notice the airborne wood chips and backlit sawdust floating downward.

I can remember stalking exotic, Pileated woodpeckers as a boy in the high-canopied forests adjacent the metropolitan airport in Memphis, that fleeting thrill of victory when one appeared, momentarily, crow-sized, radiant, red crest, brilliant white underwings spread wide, a streak of mystery and feathers gliding and flapping from the trunk of one towering tree to the next, in humid, dust-mote and sun-mottled air. I could stay ‘lost’ in those woods for hours, making myself as invisible as possible, quietly observing the lives and interactions of several creatures that would never, ever reveal themselves by visiting our suburban yard less than a mile away.

I've been revisiting this nest site for the past handful of days since vectoring in on it by listening carefully and following the auditory clues. The hole, as of late morning, yesterday had grown large enough that whichever parent was working could almost disappear inside, but not yet big enough to turn around inside or pull one's tail in completely while sitting atop a clutch of eggs. So they have a ways of go yet to accommodate egg sitting, and eventually, multiple, growing nestlings. Still, they may have at least reached the half-way point. In the second image you can see the female, eyes closed, tossing a mouthful of wood chips away from the nest cavity. I love the surreality of the image. In the third picture you can see that they (apparently), started with a test hole a few feet higher up the trunk, but are building the 'keeper' a few feet lower, for reasons unclear. And in the last photo, you can see the dead tree they've chosen towering above blooming salmon berry blooms and beside a yellow-green cloud of Bigleaf maple blossoms in this woodland setting. This should help with context, season and a sense of scale.

NEST DESCRIPTION (from All About Birds)

“The male begins excavating then nest cavity and does most of the work, but the female contributes, particularly as the hole nears completion. The entrance hole is oblong rather than the circular shape of most woodpecker holes. For the finishing touches, the bird climbs all the way into the hole and chips away at it from the inside. Periodically the adult picks up several chips at a time in its bill and tosses them from the cavity entrance. Pileated Woodpeckers don’t line their nests with any material except for leftover wood chips. The nest construction usually takes 3-6 weeks, and nests are rarely reused in later years. Cavity depth can range from 10-24 inches.”

She is an excellent wood chip tosser.

The fungal growths at the base of their nest tree give hint at developing conditions within, and the broad scattering of chips and ‘sawdust’ on the ground, below provide less than subtle clues about what has been happening fifteen feet above. It feels like a grand treat to be able to witness this nest excavation project as it moves through its deepening stages.

Of course I’ll continue to visit this nest site as these Pileated parents’ story unfolds. I want to see them ‘move in,’ want to see winged food deliveries and later, eager little nestlings peering out at the big, scary, wondrous world beyond. And like the Bushtit nest, which I have not visited in a few days now, I’ll try to give the parents plenty of breathing room without being continually disturbed, allowing time to pass between ‘shares’ here, as well so as not to wear out anyone’s patience or flog their interest into weariness. There will be more, but I’ll try to wait long enough that the changes will be big enough to be apparent. And, you know, maybe post up something once again that maybe isn’t so bird-centric for a change. I know. I know. I’ve been a bit bird-brained lately, and though many of you like birds, too, there are definitely other stories in the works, some of which scare me more than I like to admit.

“But will they still like me if they read this, see me as the person responsible for telling this?”

Meantime, thank you for riding along. It’s a treat having you here to share this with.

Future Papa during a pause in his excavation. I couldn’t help noticing that the nest opening is positioned on the leeward side of the tree, available to warming morning sun and on the opposite side of the trunk from prevailing winds and weather, and hotter afternoon sun. Deliberate choices?