One Mystery Solved

On our final morning in the cabin situated on the Rough River in Falls of Rough, Kentucky, I got up to count birds and feel the cool breeze of the upper 50s against a frigid gray sky. The clouds are swirling from the SSW to the ENE much like the Jolly Green Giant’s cigarette if he smoked, and the birds are out here spilling all their secrets and gossiping in languages I wish I could interpret. I’m sitting at 37.35.18N/86.33.1W at 430 ft. elevation, and in this one tiny spot on the face of planet Earth, there is magic in the air. No one is out here to hear it except me: I am alone, and there isn’t a soul around, at least not that I can see. An occasional truck ambles past on the road adjacent to the cabin.

When we arrived back from the next county over for our grandson’s first birthday party in Daviess County, Kentucky, we discovered that of the two grills that sat at the foot of the steps, one was gone that had been there earlier in the day. I hoped there wasn’t a grill theft where we could be questioned, but there were also two perfectly new bikes hanging from the porch that were still there, leading us to conclude that there mustn’t be much crime in this part of Kentucky. We also noticed strange wood shavings by the front door, as if a repair had been done while we were gone. We didn’t think much else about it, went to bed and turned on the sound machine, and brought the dogs out around 4:30 a.m. to find that everything was dark and still, just as we’d expected.

When I rose a little more than an hour later to sit outdoors and enjoy the quiet of the morning, I heard a knock at the door shortly after I’d flipped the coffee pot switch on. Surely no one was needing to borrow a cup of sugar we didn’t have at this hour of the morning, but in the absence of a peephole in the door, I listened carefully. This was no person. It sounded like an animal, perhaps a raccoon or possum, knocking around on the porch.

My husband was still sound asleep with the dogs in the back room, so I set my camera to video while I opened the door – just in case anything happened to me, so there would be evidence of any murder that was about to happen on my phone. I slowly twisted the deadbolt and turned the knob lock, then opened the door.

No one was there, human or animal, yet the knocking continued. I stepped out into the wood shavings, camera pointed up in the direction of the sound overhead, and as a wood chip fell at my feet, a Northern Flicker took off and landed on a branch of a tree by the river. Mystery solved! This was no cabin repair. It was a woodpecker doing his thing. I still had no explanation for the missing grill, but at least I knew where the wood chips had come from.

I’ll send the video to the cabin manager when we check out, but of course it will not take any stars away from the review. If anything, a mischievous woodpecker with a flair for a little destructive behavior and shrill calls only adds to the appeal of a place.

On the morning bird count, I counted 24 species and felt the peace puddling all around me as I did. I’m enamored with the beauty and humor of birds, but sometimes I forget how destructive they can be. As I consider it all from their perspective, I imagine that if I were a woodpecker in these parts, I might try to tear down the houses of any humans that threatened my territory. Show ’em who’s boss.

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