The Raven. That’s the name of Edgar Allen Poe’s most famous poem. And in that poem, a raven comes tapping at his chamber door, disturbing him. Which room is the chamber, anyway? Maybe it’s the bedroom, or some kind of sitting room. We have our own version of the raven. And though it’s not as dark and menacing, it’s extremely annoying. It’s The Woodpecker. He comes around every year, usually starting in September. He does not tap on our chamber door; he pecks on our bedroom window frame. Extremely loudly, for days on end. This is one crazy bird. Why doesn’t he hammer a tree, like a proper woodpecker? I love waking up to the sound of birds singing, but not loud pecking and hammering. He’s been coming every year for probably at least the last five years. My husband got a look at him a couple times, and this picture shows what he appears to be. A downy woodpecker. And is this the same bird every year, or just his crazy offspring and friends? I don’t know how long these birds live. But wait a minute. Most wild animals aren’t stupid. For him to keep returning, he must be getting a reward. Perhaps he’s feasting on juicy termites, worms, or other bugs in the window frame. Maybe he’s not so crazy after all. Could be he’s pretty smart. Are our window frames infested with bugs? At some point, will our entire house come crumbling down around us, like in Poe’s “The House Of Usher”? Our bedroom window is up way too high to examine it. It would take a long extension ladder. And I certainly don’t want my hubby doing that. Lately, several of our friends have fallen off of roofs and ladders. That’s a very bad thing. Let the house crumble, I say! I suppose we need to hire someone to take a look. But then we would be faced with annoying decisions…so tiresome! In the Bible, birds did some amazing things. Ravens brought Elijah bread and meat and kept him fed. God made quail blow in from the sea and cover the ground three feet deep. When Jesus was baptized, the Holy Spirit descended on him in the body of a dove. But I’ve read nothing about errant pecking. I guess we’re just stuck with this bird for the next little while. I think that a bird in the hand is worth much more than any on the windowsill.