Here is one last diorama post, this time from a deciduous forest with, what appears to be cottonwoods or aspen stands and a Northern Flicker in the center, a Yellow-Bellied Sapsucker on the left and a snoozing flying squirrel in its den on the right. Of the three diorama posts, in my experience, this one is the most unrealistic. Winter is definitely woodpecker season, so it is quite easy to see this type of woodpecker abundance (multiple species in the same stand of trees). I have never, however, encountered multiple species of woodpeckers like this during any of the other seasons. As a matter of fact, my woodpecker track record during spring, summer and fall is atrocious. Of course, it could just be me…, I am sure the woodpeckers are there all year round, they just are better at hiding when there are leaves on the trees I guess.
Pileated Woodpeckers hold a special place in my heart. Many years ago, long before I got into birding a friend of mine was sharing stories about his encounters with these magnificent birds. He was not a birder, he just had the fortune of seemingly bumping into Pileated Woodpeckers on a regular basis. I on the other hand, had no such luck. Through his stories and my lack of ability to spot Pileated Woodpeckers these birds became a legend. A seemingly unattainable mythical creature that continuously eluded me. It was only years later that I spotted my first Pileate Woodpecker. How things have changed. These days I not only see them on a regular basis, but I can identify them by sound, whether they are vocalizing or going to town on a tree. The sounds they produce are unmistakable. Spotting a Pileated Woodpecker is always a special treat, spotting two next to each other is an unforgettable experience. The other day two Pileate Woodpeckers were at work on the same tree trunk. Higher up the trunk a Northern Flicker was also busy working away. It must have been a particularly good woodpecker tree.
Next to a pair of hardworking Pileated Woodpeckers there was a solitary Northern Flicker working away on the same dead tree. Was it a coincidence that the two woodpecker species were at the same tree? Perhaps this a tree was particularly good for woodpeckers? Or perhaps the flicker was opportunistic and followed the Pileated Woodpeckers along through the forest taking advantage of the large gashes in the trunks the Pileated Woodpeckers leave behind? The Norther Flicker was illuminated by the late afternoon sun which made it particularly splendid against the blue sky. As the Pileated Woodpeckers moved on, so did the Northern Flicker.
I came across a Northern Flicker today sitting on a trunk working on its nest. Earlier during the summer I saw a flicker at the same cavity, so I assume it could be the same individual. There are two quite different-looking forms of the species, the Yellow-shafted Flicker in the east and north, and Red-shafted Flicker in the west. This particular individual had the red crescent on its nape distinct of the Yellow-shafted Northern Flicker. The dark “mustache stripe” by the beak indicates that it is a male.
I will be the first one to admit that this picture is a good candidate to post in the Crap Bird Photography group on Facebook (and I will probably share it in that forum). There is more to the story, however, than just a picture of a bird through a jumble of branches. There is a tiny shallow side-pond at the Heritage Wetland Park in Sherwood Park. The pond is surrounded by thick brush and I had never bothered to look at it closely, partly because it is difficult to access through the thick understory and partly because I though it would be too puny for anything interesting to be there. The other day, as I was walking past it, I heard a symphony of croaking from the pond. I have not had much luck with spotting any amphibians to date, but I figure that my luck will never improve if I never try. Said and done. I found what appeared to me as a “weak spot” in the shrubbery and started to slowly make my way through the thick understory. As soon as the pond came within sight the croaking stopped abruptly. This is exactly the same story every time I try to sneak up on frogs. I found a tolerably comfortable spot by the side of the pond. Crouching in the thicket I made myself as comfortable as possible and decided to stay put for a bit so see if the frogs would relax and resume their business. As I was scanning along the water surface, the water’s edge and the shrubbery along the water with my camera I suddenly had to do a double take. In an impenetrable jumble of branches there was an eye looking right at me. I could see bits and pieces of the body of the critter and the pattern was unmistakable, it was a Northern Flicker (Colaptes auratus). It was completely still, not moving a single feather, staring intently at me. So there we were, staring each other down in a human vs bird staring contest. After what appeared like an unreasonable long time I came to my senses and realized that I should probably try to take some pictures, after all the camera had in some miraculous way focused in on the eye of the flicker without getting tricked by all the shrubbery between us. Finding a flicker skulking around on the ground is not uncommon as they are well-known to have a particular fondness for munching on ants.