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woodpecker

From left, a female and male Pileated Woodpecker. The male can be differentiated from the female by its red cheek stripe and longer red crown that extends to its bill. Pixabay photo

By John L. Turner

Part One 

John Turner

Perhaps you remember, from those good ol’ days in high school biology, the phrase the teacher requested that you memorize: “Form begets function.” This truism reflects a universal fact that a strong correlation exists between the form of an animal or body part and the function it performs.

The long legs of a heron, for example, help it excel at wading in the shallow water of pond edges where it employs its long, dagger-like bill to spear fish and frogs. Similarly, the shape of a barnacle, growing on rocks in the intertidal portion of the ocean where crashing waves can dislodge anchored objects, is shaped to deflect wave energy. 

Nowhere is this “form fits function” rule better exhibited than with our native woodpeckers, birds that grip the vertical surface of bark while hammering away on wood. Indeed, from head to tail woodpeckers are the epitome of the truism. Many of their physical features allow them to excel when pecking on wood.  

Let’s start with the tail. Woodpecker tail feathers, especially the middle two, are quite stiff, much stiffer than, say, a blue jay feather. This rigidity is a major benefit as the tail serves as a brace, similar to a telephone lineman’s legs against the utility pole, helping to anchor the bird against the side of a tree. The other part of the anchor involves very strong feet equipped with sharp and powerful claws enabling the bird to maintain a firm grip, a grip enhanced because a woodpecker’s four toes are aligned with two toes in the front and two in the back to better grip bark, compared to a songbird’s foot with three toes in the front and one in the back. 

A male Pileated Woodpecker. Pixabay photo

These anchor points serve well as the woodpecker uses them to actively probe crevices in the bark, as well as to hammer away wood in search of grubs lurking beneath. And this is where the adaptations in the bird’s skull come into play. According to the definitive text on this bird group “Woodpeckers of North America,” a Pileated Woodpecker may strike with its bill, and by extension its skull, 12,000 times a day. Even more remarkably, the deceleration force each time can be as much as 1,200g. This is equivalent to a human hitting their head against a wall while running at 16 mph — each and every strike.    

How does a woodpecker avoid damage to its brain and eyes from the constant hammering? To protect the brain, the skull has developed two thick spongy sections, one in front of the brain and the other behind it, which help to absorb the shock.  In woodpecker species that spend a great deal of time hammering rather than pecking and flicking, this frontal section is larger. A woodpecker’s behavior can also reduce the impact of the blows by slightly changing the angle of each strike  thereby preventing an impact to the same part of the brain with each blow.

A woodpecker’s eyes are also vulnerable to damage and, not surprisingly, here too they’ve evolved several adaptations to minimize damage. With the bird’s head moving at such speed and then coming to an immediate stop their eyes could be damaged and possibly pop out of their sockets. To prevent this, a nictitating membrane, sometimes referred to as a bird’s “third eyelid,” closes an instant before impact keeping eyes securely in their socket and preventing any wood chips from damaging the eyes. Similarly, a tuft of short feathers situated at the base of the upper bill serves to prevent chips from flying into the eyes.

The adaptations don’t stop here, as woodpecker’s tongues might be the most fascinating example of “form begeting function” in this unique group of birds.  The shape of woodpecker tongues is quite diverse. 

A male Northern Flicker identified by his black whisker. Pixabay photo

Sapsucker tongues, which as their name suggest, lick sap from holes (known as sap wells) they’ve created in tree bark, are brush-like to help lap up the liquid. In contrast, woodpeckers that search for beetle grubs in rotted wood have tongues that are stiff and barbed, with some possessing backward pointing spines like a fish hook to assist in extracting prey. Sticky saliva also helps in capturing prey. 

If you stick out your tongue you can feel it is anchored to the bottom of your mouth, toward the back. Not so with woodpeckers. Remarkably, their tongues are not anchored in their mouths at all; they are anchored in their forehead near the base of the upper bill and wraps entirely around their skull. This makes the tongue quite extendable and in Northern Flickers means they can stick their tongues out a full two inches beyond the tip of the bill, a good skill to have for nabbing ants from a distance.   

Virtually all woodpeckers are cavity nesters with most taking the time to excavate the nesting and roosting cavities they use. In this way, woodpeckers play a crucial role in providing nesting opportunities for other cavity nesting birds such as Screech Owls, Eastern Bluebirds, Black-capped Chickadees, Tufted Titmice,  and Great-crested Flycatchers. In total, woodpecker cavities are used by more than 40 bird species in North America for nesting and roosting and provide shelter to several mammals such as flying squirrels and even some snake and lizard species.  

Read Part II of Wonderful Woodpeckers in the issue of November 21 or click here.

A resident of Setauket, author John L. Turner is a naturalist, conservation co-chair of the Four Harbors Audubon Society, and Conservation Policy Advocate for the Seatuck Environmental Association.

Pixabay photo

By Leah S. Dunaief

Leah Dunaief

There I was, tapping on my computer keyboard, when what sounded like a pneumatic drill started tapping right outside my window. I jumped up, ran down the hall, out the front door and around the house to be greeted by the sight of an unperturbed woodpecker.

Busily bobbing his beak into my shingles, he ignored me for a few seconds, despite my frantic hand waving and yelling, then cocked his head to see what the fuss was about. We looked at each other but he didn’t leave. I picked up a pine cone that had fallen on my driveway and threw it in his direction, along with a couple of words I wouldn’t repeat in polite company. Slowly, letting me know it was his idea, he flew away.

He left behind three black holes on the side of the house, each the size of a quarter. I went back inside to my computer, and then there he was again, rat-tat-tatting on the shingles. The words, “How much wood could a woodpecker peck if a woodpecker would peck wood?” passed through my mind as I again ran out the door and yelled. This time he moved away more quickly. I made a little pile of pine cones along the side of my driveway and returned to my computer. Not five minutes later, the scene repeated itself. I replenished my arsenal, knowing he would be back, and he was.

Good heavens, what was I to do, stand guard all day? What if I hadn’t been home? From the number and size of the holes, he had clearly been there before.

A truce seemed at hand. I pulled out my cell phone and dialed my neighbor. Yes, he was aware that there was an energetic woodpecker among us. In fact, hadn’t I heard? The neighbor on the other side of my house was having his wood shingles removed and replaced with vinyl that looked like wood but obviously didn’t taste the same. Maybe the culprit had just moved over to my shingles.

Next, I called my trusty neighborhood hardware store. Yes, they had heard of such a problem before and they did have one possible remedy, a roll of reflective tape for $7 that I should cut into 3-foot strips and hang from my house. 

We rushed down to get the tape and also bought a roll of twine.

Back home we did as instructed, knotted the red and silver streamers to the twine at five-foot intervals as if on a clothesline, then hung the entire line high up across the side of the house. We repeated the process for the front of the house where he had also started pecking. I am lucky to have saintly friends who executed these maneuvers on ladders for me. When it was done, we stood back and looked at the handwork. The house looked decorated for Halloween.

As you might expect of me, I researched “woodpeckers” on my computer and found four reasons that woodpeckers would carry on this way. The first was to make a “satisfyingly loud noise and proclaim that this was his territory and attract a mate.” Bully for him.

The other three explanations were less romantic but more practical: to find food in the shingles, especially larvae of carpenter bees, leafcutter bees and grass bagworms; to store food; for nesting.

I further found some good news, or at least some consolation. It seems that ancient cultures associated woodpeckers with luck, prosperity and spiritual healing. To other cultures they represented hard work, perseverance, strength and determination.  Woodpeckers are, apparently, among the most intelligent and smartest birds in the world.

More good news in the form of fortune cookie messages: When they appear, it is time to unleash one’s potential and change any situation to one’s best advantage. From woodpeckers one can imbibe the skills of being resourceful and determined. They encourage the power to unshackle ingenuity and creativity in those around them.

Well, now you know. Whatever success ensues, I will owe it to my woodpecker.

P.S. After one more short visit, he has not come back.