Bethel, Maine.
1902.
January 7.
  Snowing most of the day but at no time heavily, only
about 2 inches falling. Calm with now and then a breath of
air from S.E. Thermometer 16 degrees 24 degrees.
  Spent most of the forenoon cutting down sapplings along
the path in the woods below the house. While thus engaged I
heard a Woodpecker tapping near at hand. From the rapidity
and vigor of his strokes I suspected that he was a Hairy but
to my delight he proved to be an Arctic Three-toed, the first
I have ever seen in Bethel. He was in a piece of balsam woods
on the trunk of a balsam that had broken off about 25 feet
above the ground and was far gone in decay. For fully an
hour he did not change his position by more than a few inches
although he worked almost unceasingly, making the chips fly and drilling
several irregularly shaped holes deep into the stem of 
the tree. I stood almost directly beneath him for ten or
fifteen minutes without apparently causing him any alarm
although he stopped his work once or twice to peer down at me
giving me, as he did so, a good view of his rich yellow crown
patch. He looked very large - almost as big as a Flicker -
and I was strongly impressed with his exceeding grace of
movement and superabundant vigor. Without question this is
the most energetic and spirited of all our Woodpeckers with
the possible exception of the Pileated.
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