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The day dawned clear, and I was standing on the ridge behind our house looking west and waiting for the mountains to turn rosy in the rising sun, when I heard the high-pitched clucks of a pileated woodpecker winging toward me.
A mole tunneled out of the woods early this winter and started digging back and forth behind the house in a never-ending search for food. In two months it has turned our yard into a scale model of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Walk across the grass and your feet sink into newly pushed up earth.
