I was looking forward to sleeping in last Sunday morning but a pileated woodpecker had other plans. Its unmistakable call yanked me out of bed, and before I’d fully processed what I was doing, I’d thrown on clothes and wandered outside to find it. Still half asleep, I dropped into a chair on the back patio and waited.

First I heard it, then I saw it. Could I have crept closer for a better look? Probably. Was I too tired and comfortable to bother? Also probably. So I stayed put and watched him preen in the morning sunlight, content to have a front-row seat until a rowdy gang of Northern Flickers swooped in and ran him off.

All in all, it was a surprisingly good start to my day.