Until recently. A noticeable rise in traffic and noise began with the conversion of a handful of the properties into airbnbs, one of them unfortunately right next door to us, now being remodeled. Next came the blading of an older home, across the street and one door east, to build a modern mcmansion (asking price 2.1 mil) totally out of character with the neighborhood. The final stroke was the fire which gutted the house across the street and one door west. So, for the past six months our one block stretch of peaceful valley has been anything but, suddenly replete with the cacophony of sirens, bulldozers, chain saws, and cement trucks.
And then, for the past six weeks, with the strident, reverberating “social calls” of the pair of Gila Woodpeckers which have inexplicably, despite the surrounding neighborhood chaos, renovated an old home of their own in the Giant Saguaro gracing our front yard. Gilas have been described as noisy and aggressive, their “Ca-aa-ah” calls, usually four notes at a time, a “uniform vibrato with rich harmonic structure.” That description is way beyond my music vocabulary, but we do enjoy Gila music and we’re big fans. Their construction project has now brought a welcome new family to our block, and it has inserted the sound of raw nature into the human tumult going on all around us.
We first suspected the new family’s arrival early one morning, just before sunrise, when we were startled out of our wits at breakfast by the nearly deafening jackhammer sound of a woodpecker drumming on the stovepipe right above us. We knew immediately what it was, though, as we hear both Gilas and Gilded Flickers banging out messages and territorial proclamations atop the light poles at our local park. Keratin on metal is the woodpecker social media.
That same day, walking out our front door, we heard the muted tapping of one of the woodies inside one of the holes in our Saguaro and, sure enough, a female Gila exited and flew off. The hole they’ve chosen is an old one last used by their probable grandparents in the spring of 2012, used once since then by European Starlings, and apparently chosen once again for the size of the entrance and the extent of the interior space. The cavity is ten feet up on the twenty-five foot cactus and faces WNW, not perfect, but better than others facing south or SW in our summer heat.
Our high expectations for our new neighbors were fulfilled the morning we saw one of them exiting their remodel with a fecal sac, and then we were able to document the pairs’ food deliveries becoming more frequent. The deal was finally closed when we noticed the size of the items gradually increased from indiscernibly small, unidentifiable insects to the occasional moth, grasshopper, and berry. We are happy to report the arrival of two little woodies into the family and the neighborhood.
Over the now twenty years of this column’s existence I have received several negative emails regarding the woodpecker tribe--Red-naped Sapsuckers drilling and killing newly planted trees, Hairy Woodpeckers destroying cabins in the mountains—but living with our new Gila neighbors has been a blessing and a joy. They have provided a much needed respite from the stress of our no longer so peaceful valley. They fly in and out, spend the night with us, patrol the morning for breakfast bugs, and serenade us with their boisterous calls. Our Saguaro has become that rare airbnb that actually enhances the neighborhood.