On this mild, sunny morning in Littleton, a northern flicker is drumming on one of our metal vents. One of the early signs of spring, often combined with a hysterical call, this annual ritual is welcomed by humans, even if another Arctic blast is expected later in the week.
Of course, the flicker has no knowledge of the weather forecast and is reacting purely to the lengthening days. He is not aware of the crisis in Ukraine, the jittery stock market or the effects of inflation. Though a Cooper's hawk may end his life tomorrow, the flicker is but vaguely aware of the threat. He responds only to hormones and external stimuli and his "faith" is purely instinctual.
Some humans might envy such a life, free of worry, dread and regret. The richness of our lives, the consequence of our large brain, does come with a price. Ironically, our brain power, fueling imagination, may also delude us, a complication to which the flicker is immune.
