Acorn Woodpeckers are a frequent sight in the San Francisco Bay Area where I’ve grown up and spent the majority of my life, but they never cease to surprise and entertain. With their rigid, oil-black bodies, white masks, and luminous red caps, they have always struck me as living exclamation marks, all the more so because of their tendency to announce their presence with a loud rapping at whatever nearby material might promise a meal of grubs or provide a convenient place for them to cache their winter stores of food. I’ve captured him here with his wonderfully erect, exaggerated, and tension-filled body posture just as he is about to strike wood. There’s something fascinating about happening upon an old tree or telephone pole like this one peppered with holes, each stuffed neatly with an acorn. It is a marvelous example of nature’s industry on display. Several years ago, these birds were in the Bay Area news for months; for whatever reason, large numbers of them had settled into a local retirement community where they were causing significant damage to houses, drilling exterior walls and eaves to keep their stores safe. The problem lead to something of a war between concerned homeowners and bird-lovers. I can’t say I know exactly how the problem was resolved, but I do remember hearing the ridiculous suggestion that experts be brought in to trap the birds and release them outside of town, as if they wouldn’t simply fly back! The truth is that if you live in the right climate and you have acorn-producing oak trees, you will have to contend with these very successful birds. My grandmother has mature oaks in her backyard and can attest to the fact that some years see the production of few acorns or none at all, while others yield buckets full, and all manner of wildlife respond accordingly. My hunch is that the explosion in the Acorn Woodpecker population that year was simply the result of a particularly good acorn harvest; it’s a problem that will naturally correct itself.