The high pitched laughing scream of the Pileated Woodpecker makes for goose-pimpled flesh. The grating annoying cackle of Woody Woodpecker is based on it. The real thing is so different, so frightening.
Seeing them is a total treat. The are big and so punk rock with their red brushed back mohawk. Their beak is long, and their head seems small. Their neck is a strange apostrophe that connects the two.

One day I was hiking in Rosendale and I found a pile of feathers and bones. The tell tale beak of the pileated was there, its black and white feathers, its large rib cage ripped asunder---but one thing was missing: no red feathers. Did the predator or scavenger eat the whole head? And spit out the beak only? Could it have been a Hairy Woodpecker? Maybe some little chipmunk coveted the red feathers for its mossy little den...

This morning a very exciting thing happened. I was having coffee and outside the birds began to kick up a racket, sounding like a huge bird fight. I tried to see what it was, but it seemed to be over the little ridge to the pond. I looked away and then looked out again, hearing the chatter intensify and out pops a coyote! In a second he ran towards the neighbors property. I ran outside and caught a glimpse of him running away.