DRUMMERS OF THE FOREST DRUMMERS
OF THE FOREST

It's early March, just past lunchtime in Burlington, Ontario, when you step off the road and into the forest. The transition is instant and almost jarring. One moment you're surrounded by traffic, concrete, and the restless rhythm of city life; the next, you're enveloped in a world so quiet it feels like you've slipped between realities.

The only sound is the soft crunch of snow and ice beneath your boots. The forest is stripped down to its winter bones - bare branches, pale light, and a stillness that feels both serene and slightly eerie. Yet the silence isn't empty. It's the kind that invites you to breathe deeper, to notice more.

A pair of squirrels breaks the quiet, playfully spiraling around the forest floor. They move with effortless confidence, as if this frozen landscape has been their private playground all winter long. They can afford this winter fun because they spent the fall stashing away nuts and seeds, building hidden caches that now keep them fed through the cold months. Their energy is a reminder that even in the coldest season, the forest is never truly asleep.

With the trees bare and insects dormant, you assume the birds have retreated elsewhere. You pause, listening for any chirps or fluttering wings, but the silence holds. It seems like today won't be a day for bird photography.

Then - tap… tap… tap.

A sound so distinct it slices through the quiet like a signature. A woodpecker!

DOWNY WOODPECKER PHOTO CREDIT: IRSHAAD A. RASHID

You've photographed Downy Woodpeckers before—small, quick, and light in their tapping. But this sound is different. Heavier. More deliberate. It echoes with authority.

You scan the maze of trunks, following the rhythm. When the tapping pauses, you pause. When it resumes, you move. It becomes a kind of quiet dance between you and the unseen drummer.

And then you spot it.

A Pileated Woodpecker, North America's largest woodpecker species, clinging to the side of a tall tree. Its red crest blazes against the monochrome winter backdrop, a flash of colour so vivid it feels almost unreal.

The bird is magnificent - powerful, focused, and completely absorbed in its work as it chisels into the wood with deep, resonant strikes.

PILEATED WOODPECKER PHOTO CREDIT: IRSHAAD A. RASHID

And you're blessed enough to witness one of them.

Pileated Woodpeckers carve out these deep, clean-edged holes to reach carpenter ants and beetle larvae hidden inside the wood - their favourite winter protein source. Every heavy strike is part of a precise, purposeful hunt. These birds are territorial and it's entirely possible that this bird (and perhaps its partner) are the only Pileated Woodpeckers calling this forest home.

Their presence leaves a mark long after they've flown on. The large cavities they excavate become shelter for owls, ducks, bats, and other forest residents, turning these shy giants into quiet architects of the ecosystem.