Someone is knocking on the door. Nala starts barking. Reach over for phone. It is 6:30 a.m. The knocking continues. Realize it isn't knocking.
Jump out of bed. Rush to the balcony door. Throw it open. There's a flurry of beautiful brown and orange red wings. The woodpecker flies onto the 45 year old maple tree. Looks back at me over his shoulder. And takes off.
Read More