The Gift of Sound

Often I walk in the undeveloped desert to exercise my eyesight. This morning the Ironwood brought me gift of sound. I had lingered under the tree, standing in the wash. I was thinking of how the day before I had learned that the city crews are to arrive in about two weeks time, to begin the clearing of the nearby land to turn it into a park. I was thinking how I hoped that the arrival of the equipment would not be too disruptive while I am still here. Perhaps the noise of the equipment will be rather noxious for awhile. I could already imagine the beeping in my head, that would probably happen all day long.

Then my thoughts turned from fretting towards the days tasks. I outlined some notes on my clipboard with my pencil. Minutes went by. Then I was brought out of my thoughts by a sharp rattling noise from above me. It was a woodpecker banging its beak into one of the high branches of the ironwood. 

I slowly craned my head until I saw the bird. It was absorbed with its own activity. Were I to move quickly, I might startle it away, so I moved slowly and kept writing notes on my clipboard. 

Usually when I notice woodpeckers, it is when I see on the saguaros. The tall saguaros develop holes and cavities through bird activity, and the woodpeckers like to scour them for insects. On the saguaro, their pecking barely makes any noise. But on the ironwood it is like a hard rattle. It rose above the noise of the nearby traffic on Pima Road as if an engine of one of the cars was sputtering at ten times the volume.

My patience in standing below the tree and keeping my movements slow was eventually rewarded by the arrival of a second woodpecker, which rattled as if response to the other one, in a softer sound. The wood was not as old there perhaps.