The Ivory-Billed Woodpecker
In search of ghosts
My ankle was already beginning to swell as I hobbled through the viridescent Sapsucker Forest of upstate New York. Just a moment ago, I thought I had spotted the rarest woodpecker in the world, and in doing so, turned sharply, my foot lodged in a hole, as I felt the tendons pull like rubber bands. As the pain rose from my ankle to my mind, I clenched my teeth as if an invisible piece of wood was lodged in my mouth, like being in an old western and about to undergo the ubiquitous removal of the bullet scene. In the corner of my eye, utilizing all my energy to swallow a scream of pain, there was the woodpecker of every birder’s dream. The holy grail of sightings. The Ivory-billed Woodpecker.
Of course, I realized the possibility that an Ivory-Billed Woodpecker was slim to none, for if there were any left, they would be in the southern part of the US, but still, the impossibility of a sighting within these woods made the romance of even the slightest chance all the better. Or at least I thought so. Proof, however, balanced like a diamond upon a blade of grass.
I removed the bandage and wrap. I didn’t tear the ligament of my right ankle, for all that was left of a previous injury was scar tissue. I sat down on a large log and removed my boot and sock. The purple and green hue was beginning to emerge around the Talus…
