Laura Erickson's For the Birds

On November 22, 2020, at the Banding Station at Hawk Ridge Bird Observatory a little more than a mile from my house, Frank Nicoletti caught a Pileated Woodpecker in a mist net. Both sexes have a red crest, but he could tell this one was a male because of its red forehead and mustache mark—those are dark gray on females. Pyle’s bird banding guide explains how to age a Pileated: among other subtle details, young birds hatched that same year usually still have a gray-brown or brownish iris, and the wing feather called P10 is rounded and measures longer than it will after the bird molts into more mature plumage. Frank had no way of knowing when the bird’s birthday, or hatchday, was, but knew he had hatched in the spring or summer of 2020, (just like my grandson Walter). After recording measurements and details and placing a numbered band on the bird’s right leg, he set him free.

I don’t know when that particular Pileated Woodpecker first turned up in my yard because I never spent much time looking at woodpecker legs—they’re held against the belly, often obscured by feathers, and virtually never seem all that interesting compared to the rest of the bird.

When we first moved to Peabody Street in 1981, I never saw Pileated Woodpeckers in my neighborhood at all. It took eight years to add the species to my yard list and another 15 years—in 2004—to see one at any of my feeders. That one was cooperative enough to let me photograph him with a small digital camera. After I got a good camera with a long lens in 2009, most of my Pileated photos were taken far from home, but little by little, I started seeing and photographing them more frequently right here on Peabody Street. I take a lot of photos through an open window, but the photo I consider my masterpiece was a shockingly lucky shot taken right through the window glass. On November 19, 2018, we had a new dining room window put in, and when the installers left, I was checking out how clear the glass was right when a Pileated alighted on the feeder, so I clicked away in burst mode for a bit and voila! When I looked through my photos, I’d somehow captured the very moment this bird’s tongue, longer than his beak, was fully extended. (In retrospect, I wonder if this couldn’t have been BB’s father.)

In November 2021, I noticed, again by looking at my photos, that a male sported a tiny numbered aluminum band on his right leg—that was the bird Frank had banded the year before. And my habit of looking at woodpecker legs—well, male Pileated Woodpecker legs—instantly rocketed from 0 to 100. At first I was concerned with getting pictures of the band itself so I could work out the entire 9-digit number. Now that that’s established, whenever I see a male Pileated in my neighborhood, I check out the leg simply to verify if he’s my Banded Boy.

BB had been so regular ever since 2021 that I thought my yard was his primary feeding area, but this winter his visits have been much more sporadic. I think I saw him on January 3 and 4, but it was bitter cold; the male acting like BB had his belly feathers so fluffed that they obscured his legs. I did see him for sure on January 11 and got a few photos on January 15.

Like Walter, BB is 4 ½ years old now—far from the record as far as Pileated Woodpecker longevity goes. I’ll be in my 80s if I live to see BB break the all-time record. But reports of banded birds do provide valuable data, so after my good look on the 11th, I reported him to the Bird Banding Lab—something I’ll try to do once or twice a year now.

I’m not sure why BB’s become less regular here in my yard. I see at least one unbanded male almost every day, and have one and quite likely two different females also showing up every day; last winter I hardly ever saw a female. I love how no matter how much we think we know our backyard birds’ routines, they are constantly proving that we don’t.

One of BB’s favorite places to drum was on the power-line pole in the back of my yard—I got a photo of him there last month. On January 16, Minnesota Power came in and added a taller, thicker pole; although they left the old pole in place, they cut off the top. I don’t look out the back window more than a few times a day, and so far haven’t seen any woodpeckers on the new or old pole since the change. It’ll be interesting to see how BB reacts to it. No matter how often I see him, BB’s always teaching me new things.