Chapter 8 The constant peck-peck finally got to her. With her eyes narrowed and her soft lips forming a smirk, Lisa raised her head from behind her large glass of ice-cold lemonade and the hardback novel she was reading. Her nose, with its slightly raised tip, crinkled. After ten annoyed minutes, she thought that the woodpecker had finally moved on to another tree. No such luck.
Peck, peck, peck! She didn’t know what puzzled her more—the woodpecker’s persistence and decision to stick to a single tree or the fact that the subtle sound was bothering her so much. It wasn’t the bird’s fault that she was in a bad mood.
Sitting back on an old wicker chair with her shapely legs crossed and her feet propped up on a short wooden stool, Lisa could only shake her head in aggravation. The redwood de
