A Pileated Woodpecker Family

I sit here holding photos shot in 1989. Only three, they still provide an overwhelmingly intimate look into the private life of a family who once lived in our area. 

The busy family lived north of Clam Lake a couple years before I was even born. It's strange to hold photos of anyone between my unseasoned hands and know that they are no longer alive in the material sense. But then again, much of my job is strange. I connect with the majority of visitors over stuffed animal mounts; I keep a set of gloves and spare plastic bag in the back of my car at all times in case I notice "quality" roadkill along the rural commute between home and town; in the office, I collect and dispose of small invertebrates on their way to munch on the organic matter in specimens I so rigidly guard. Being in my position, I am surrounded by death. But that always comes coupled with life. 

Photo by Gary Bartholomew

I look at the images of the Pileated Woodpecker family and imagine their life years ago. The photographer, Gary Bartholomew, graciously provided an account of the day he took their images, and later of how he gathered eggs from their toppled nest. 

"We have a summer cabin near Clam Lake, WI. This nest was in a very spacious, carved-out cavern in a large, old birch tree next to our dock. For photography, I leaned a ladder on a tree next to the nest and placed a coat on top, so the Pileated Woodpecker would get used to the new surroundings and be comfortable when I came back to take pictures. 

"After a couple of days, I climbed the ladder, put the coat on, and waited. She flew in, hesitated, going around and up and down the nest opening. Then, just as she was about to feed them, a deer fly landed on my ear. I'm very allergic to them. I couldn't move, at that exact same time my wife was yelling, calling me for dinner. I couldn't swat the fly that was digging in or answer my wife, because mother woodpecker started to feed the chicks. I took three pictures, she flew away, I swatted the fly, and answered my wife. No more than fifteen minutes later a dark storm front came in ending any more images that evening.

"The next morning the nest was empty. Who said nature photography was easy? The following year, the birch tree went down due to age and wind. Three eggs were in the nest."

Pileated woodpecker eggs retrieved by Gary