The Woodpecker

This morning, a woodpecker taps against a tree in my backyard. Its beak strikes a steady, insistent rhythm that travels through my window and wakes the neighborhood. Everyone hears it differently: some call it noise, others try to understand it, and some ignore it.I pause. I wonder if this isn’t how life’s distractions work: some we try to ignore, some we try to understand, and some jolt us awake, whether we want them to or not.I stay in bed, listening, trying to anticipate the next tap. I can’t see the bird, but I imagine its form, its persistence. I add music, I add attention, I give meaning to this unexpected rhythm.And in that steady tapping, I find something simple: even in the ordinary, even in the unexpected, there are moments that call us to be present, to listen, to learn from the small. This bird, unknowingly, reminds me that every sound, every interruption can become meditation, rhythm, awakening.The world taps persistently, inviting us to wake and notice.Let’s remember that not every sound breaks peace, some sounds lead you to it!BW