Melodious Drummer

I was sitting in the outdoor tub, enveloped by the quiet night, waiting to listen to the next interesting sound that sauntered my way. Dusk was descending. I was not able to see much detail anymore, but still able to hear numerous aural particulars. I was drifting along with the flow of mundane events.

A sound came to me: the drumming of a woodpecker. But this one was no pedestrian drummer. He was a virtuoso. A woodpecker’s usual drumming sound is loud and repetitive—emanating from a hollow tree branch that he has claimed as his very own. It rings out through the forest, as if the bird has proudly discovered a wonderful new drum to beat on; sending his exuberant message to all, but especially to any receptive female woodpeckers who may be within hearing distance.

Woodpeckers come in several flavors around here: downy, hairy, red-bellied, and pileated—from small to large. In addition to being garish drummers, they are also garish in their appearance. They flaunt their contrasting black and white apparel, like a teenage boy dressed up for the prom. Their woodpecker tuxedo is often set off with a brilliant red patch on either their head or shoulders.

A woodpecker’s bill is long and chisel-shaped; it is backed by strong neck muscles, that allow them to bash into tree bark, seeking hidden bugs beneath. To keep them from becoming addled by brain damage as they bang away, their brain is encased in a fluid shock absorber.

Their vocal calls are of three types: expressing alarm, attracting a mate, or declaring territory. Their drumming calls are primarily for similar communication—either to attract a mate or to proclaim their domain. When they excavate for bugs, they slowly, much more quietly and erratically bang away on a tree branch; but when mate-seeking drumming, their rate is far more rapid—sounding like a toy machine gun.

It’s not easy to discern which species is drumming, when I listen to them—but the big pileated woodpecker sounds big, while the little downy raps much more demurely. Although I couldn’t see the drummer on this night, I was guessing that he was a medium sized hairy woodpecker.

The usual woodpecker drumming sound is a loud rapping of 10-15 beats, way off in the woods, where the bird has found himself an echoey, hollow branch. That beat will get repeated, with the same resonant tapping, every minute or so. You can admire him as you listen, proudly announcing that he’s found himself a great percussion instrument to rap on and show off his skills.

The drumming of this guy, however, was not always repeated the same way. Although his rapping rate was quite constant, he’d bash away just once or twice, and then he’d fall silent for a bit. When he started up again, the tone of his drumming would quite different… not at all repetitive. He’d tap for a few times on what sounded like a hard spot on the limb. Then he’d switch to a dry-sounding spot, sort of like a dead wood area. Then he’d drum with a hollow, resonant sound that rang out, almost bell-like. I listened to him moving back and forth between these three locations, as if he was seeking the best sound to woo the ladies with.

I pictured in my mind a jazz drummer or an orchestral percussionist—tapping on one surface after another, making fascinating, melodic sounds, seeking just the right tonal quality. It was as if this bird was experimenting—exploring for the location that pleased him (or her) the most. I enjoyed his musical concert. I liked the variation in sounds, although I suspected that the hollow-limb sound traveled farther in the woods, and thus was more likely to reach a listening lady woodpecker. I wondered if she was enjoying the concert as much as I was, picking up on the different intonations. Maybe she was just a tone-deaf lady woodpecker, but still receptive enough to respond to his artistic drumming.