On New Year's Day I was walking the dog when I came upon a dead bird in the snow. It was a medium sized woodpecker with high contrast black and white bars and stripes on its back, wings and tail, a bright red head and chest, and a warm yellow belly....a red-breasted sapsucker. These birds are indigenous to the area but are not common. It could easily be ten years since the last time I saw one. To find a dead one was sad, but to compound my dismay, within five minutes I found another one, also dead. I held the two colorful corpses in my hands and wondered if I would ever see another. So many signs natural, political and familial point to endings and loss. Couldn't red-breasted sapsuckers come to my woods and live? The foreboding that is always lurking in my heart sharpened my grief, but what could I do? It was too late for the woodpeckers.
Within an hour my mood would turn. Looking out the window past the Christmas tree into the snowy woods, I saw the flash of black and white and red and yellow dipping between the trees and then a red-breasted sapsucker perched on a trunk just feet away. Seconds later another joined it, pecking busily into the bark for food. Both birds were puffed up against the cold, wearing their bright feathers like cheerful hats and scarves under their graphic overcoats. They glowed against their wintery background and were very much alive. I felt such a rush of relief and joy seeing them. It was a reassurance that some loss doesn't mean all is lost. At least for now, woodpeckers are still here.
It took a while for it to register having seen four red-breasted sapsuckers in one day. Wow. An interesting way to begin the new year. I looked up woodpeckers in my animal book and found that they are associated with the power of rhythm and discrimination. Words to meditate upon in 2022.
Happy New Year!