As we headed back down the main trail, we heard the familiar drumming. The little babe has known who makes that sound since she was 2 years old. A Pileated woodpecker, or more specifically, Wilson PodPie III (one of my husband's story characters), or simply Wilson, for short. The tree that he was drumming on was easy enough to find - the scattering of fresh wood chips on the ground gave it away. I looked up one side of the tree - no Wilson. Looked up even higher - no Wilson. I looked on the other side and saw the large rectangular hole that we had discovered last week. But no Wilson. Then I laughed and realized what a discovery we had made - Wilson was INSIDE the tree, most likely excavating a hole for a nest! As we were stopped in front of the tree, the drumming stopped and a large black head with beady eye, long pointed peak, and bright red cap popped out of the hole and froze still when he saw us. He looked at us. We looked at him. After a minute, we took a couple of steps down the trail and Wilson, perhaps satisfied that we were not a threat, brought his whole body out of the tree and then popped back in again and resumed drumming. It was pretty thrilling to see a bird as big as a Pileated disappear in a flash into the middle of a tree. The tree is a tall birch, one of many right along the trail. This trail is frequented by dog walkers, trail runners, and bikers. I hope that Wilson thinks the neighborhood is quiet enough to raise a family.