Aryn Henning Nichols

In 1940, as Walt Disney’s Pinocchio wobbled across the big screen, a lesser-known creative genius gave rise to another cinematic icon. Woody Woodpecker, an irascible bird with a spiky red doo, impish grin, and signature laugh, leaped off cartoonist Walter Lance’s drawing table and into movie theaters. Modeled after North America’s Pileated Woodpecker, Woody’s celebrity eventually landed him on Hollywood’s Walk of Fame, indelibly popularizing woodpeckers in modern culture.

True to its name, a woodpecker’s life is about pecking. All share anatomical features that make them uniquely “woodpecker.” Special musculature in and around their heads holds their brain in place while they furiously peck away – no need for aspirin. Stiff tail feathers prop them vertically against trees to enable the business of pecking. Specialized feet with two toes pointed forward and two pointed backward, “zygodactyly” in the parlance of ornithologists, enable them to easily grip even the smoothest bark.

Winter is ideal for woodpecker viewing. Leafless trees offer unobstructed views of these forest-dwelling dynamos. Their inclination to make noise gives them away. As cold winter days slowly lengthen, woodpeckers begin to drum. Short, staccato bursts are a percussive proclamation of territory and a sure sign that spring is indeed on the way. Heavy, chisel-like bills facilitate excavation of wood to find insects and create nest holes. They’re so adept at woodwork, in Latin America woodpeckers are known as “pájaros carpinteros“ – bird carpenters. 

An industrious lot, woodpeckers excavate new nest holes every year. The previous year’s holes don’t remain unoccupied for long. Tree cavities are prime real estate. A host of species unable to excavate wood – chickadees, nuthatches, titmice, owls, and even Wood Ducks – depend on prodigious woodpeckers for a constant supply of much needed housing. That, in turn, is dependent on an abundance of dead trees, a critically important resource for healthy woodpecker populations.

Driftless forests support seven species of woodpeckers. The largest, the Pileated, is a crow-sized behemoth. It’s resonant “cuk-cuk-cuk-cuk” vocalization echoes throughout wooded coulees. Deep, rectangular excavations in tree trunks skirted with piles of woodchips are evidence of a bird more often heard than seen.

Our smallest woodpecker, the diminutive Downy, is dressed in snappy black and white. A mere six inches long, these tiny acrobats easily explore the underside of branches and are often seen perched on goldenrod stems searching for insects. The Downy Woodpecker is a frequent backyard visitor.

In terms of pure panache, the Red-headed Woodpecker gets top billing. An impossibly red head sits atop a boldly patterned back and white body propelled by equally striking wings. The mere glimpse of a flying “red head” elicits oohs and ahhhs. In a manner reminiscent of flycatchers, red heads frequently dart out from dead trees to snatch insects in mid-air, a behavior known as hawking. 

The Northern Flicker seems “less woodpecker” than its cousins. The large, jaunty bird sports crisp polka dots on a mocha-colored body. The only woodpecker to routinely forage on the ground, flickers have a propensity for ants. They’re often seen hopping like robins, opportunistically “excavating” anthills while searching for tasty ant larva. Flickers are snowbirds, heading to slightly warmer climes – Missouri and Arkansas – to spend the winter.

In the woodpecker world, the prize for fine dining goes to Yellow-bellied Sapsuckers. A smallish woodpecker bedecked in black and white, their scarlet forehead distinguishes them from similar looking species. 

As their name implies, sapsuckers have a proverbial sweet tooth. They drill rows of small holes known as sap wells into tree trunks to release sugary sap. Brushy tipped tongues enable them to efficiently lap it up. Clusters of sap wells attract a host of additional species, including hummingbirds, searching for a quick slurp… or the insects also attracted to sap. It just so happens sap wells can be life savers for hungry birds when early spring weather takes a turn for the worse. When you can’t find bugs, you can always rely on sap. That makes these feathered confectioners vitally important members of their woodland neighborhoods.

Most Driftless woodpeckers are steely enough to endure the Upper Midwest’s snowy climate. This winter,  when you’re itching for a change of pace, put on your boots and gloves and head out. A quiet foray into your local grove is sure to yield a glimpse of these fascinating woodland carpenters.   

Craig & Mary Thompson

Craig and Mary Thompson live north of La Crosse near an oak forest brimming with busy woodpeckers. Mary’s favorite is the flicker because “they’re the only bird cool enough to wear polka dots every day.” Craig has already made an April reservation at a local sap well.

“My beautiful daughter’s life ended on a cold kitchen floor of a dumpy studio apartment near La Crosse while I slept in my bed in Westby,” says Heidi Overson, describing her heart-breaking experience of a parent’s worst nightmare. “I wasn’t there to help her, to hold her, to try and bring her back to life. I never got to say, ‘I love you’ one last time.” 

On January 7, 2022, at the age of 31, Heidi’s daughter, Amara “Mari” Lee, died due to accidental fentanyl poisoning. Fentanyl is a synthetic opioid used to treat chronic severe pain or severe pain following surgery. It is a controlled substance similar to morphine, but approximately 100 times more potent. 

According to the United States Drug Enforcement Administration, just two milligrams of fentanyl can be a lethal dose, depending on someone’s body size, tolerance, and past usage. Drug traffickers typically distribute fentanyl by the kilogram. One kilogram of fentanyl has the potential to kill 500,000 people. 

Within months of Amara’s passing, Heidi, along with Randall Overson (Amara’s stepfather) and Jeff Richardson (Amara’s father), founded the Amara Rose Foundation. The 501(c)(3) non-profit is dedicated to honoring lives lost to addiction and fentanyl poisoning by raising awareness, educating, promoting prevention, encouraging those in recovery, and helping those – and their families – who are struggling.

“I wanted to tell the world what happened to my daughter,” says Heidi. “I wanted to be a living example of a parent that went through hell with my daughter and turned that journey into a lesson, in hopes that other parents and families would fight harder to save their own children, users and non-users alike.”

Though Amara ultimately lost her battle, Heidi was determined that fentanyl wouldn’t win. 

“I wanted to turn evil into good. There was nowhere else to go with our loss,” explains Heidi. “I always quote the verse Genesis 50:20: ‘… you meant evil against me, but God made it for good in order to bring this present result, the saving of many lives.’ That sums up our foundation pretty well. We know she’s in heaven and we will see her again, but until then, we are on a mission to save lives.”

Amara was Heidi’s firstborn child, older sister to several siblings and part of a caring family. She had a great personality and sense of humor, Heidi says, and was popular in school. 

But in middle school, Amara began to struggle, and after a couple bouts of shoplifting, her family got her into counseling, hoping to resolve the issues she was having. Unfortunately, by high school, Amara had begun drinking and experimenting with drugs, unbeknownst to her family. 

After graduating and moving out of her family home in rural Coon Valley, Wisconsin, Amara continued to stay in touch with and see her family often – they had no idea she was using drugs. She hid it well. Amara became addicted to meth in her twenties, then heroin. When she had an overdose, her family became abruptly aware of Amara’s drug use. They got her into a one-month treatment center, hoping it would cure her. They didn’t know much about drug addiction and that one month of treatment is not anywhere near the amount of time needed.

“It was pure hell,” says Heidi. “There were so many ups and downs. Over the next few years, she’d use, get clean, come home to go through her withdrawals, take off again, and we wouldn’t hear from her for weeks. She was in three long-term inpatient treatment centers over time, but they did nothing for her.”

 The long, hard, back-and-forth journey would end tragically as fentanyl made its way onto the drug scene. Due to its low cost and potency, drug dealers are mixing fentanyl with other illegal drugs such as heroin, meth, marijuana and cocaine, and even fake prescription pills and vapes, often creating a lethal concoction. 

According to the Wisconsin Department of Health Services and American Medical Association, 60 percent of drug overdose deaths were linked to fentanyl in 2021. In Wisconsin, synthetic opioids (primarily fentanyl) were identified in 91 percent of opioid overdose deaths and 73 percent of all drug overdose deaths. The number of fentanyl overdose deaths in Wisconsin grew by 97 percent from 2019 to 2021. 

Amara joined those tragic statistics with her death in 2022. Addiction was a disease from which she would never recover, the outcome terminal. 

“Our family will never be the same,” says Heidi. “We all miss her, each in our own ways. I am devastated. It’s been almost three years, and I still can’t function like I used to…the pain is overwhelming some days. Part of my heart is gone.”

After starting the foundation, Amara’s parents built up a board of directors – all of whom have personal dealings with drug/alcohol addiction, fentanyl poisonings, and mental illness, through a variety of experiences such as working in law enforcement, counseling, experiencing addiction personally, or losing a loved one to overdose or fentanyl poisoning – and began sharing their stories. 

Scott Bjerkos is a detective with the Vernon County Sheriff’s Office and Fritz Leinfelder is an investigator with the La Crosse County Sheriff’s Office. They both serve as presenters and have experience and knowledge of what’s going on in local communities and in the fight against addiction and fentanyl poisoning. 

Veronica Hoiland was Amara’s jail correctional officer at the Vernon County Detention Center and grew very close to Amara while working with her. 

Julie Tully’s son, Karl, was a friend of Amara’s who also died from accidental fentanyl poisoning in 2017.

Samantha Marshall is a board member who is in successful recovery and provides valuable insight during decision-making processes.

Julie Mills is very active in the Viroqua community and provides a variety of connections and event organizing skills. She truly has a heart for those struggling.  

The Amara Rose Foundation focuses on providing education, raising awareness, supporting law enforcement and jail programs and ministries, and encouraging and supporting people in recovery as well as those struggling with mental illness, addiction, and grief. They also connect with and support families and friends who’ve lost loved ones to addiction or fentanyl poisoning, and many of these people are presenters or volunteer for the foundation. 

“Fentanyl is everywhere…and so many kids don’t know. Adults don’t know. This is a matter of life and death…we are spreading the facts as much as we can, wherever we can,” says Heidi. “Our presentations are hard hitting and educational. We use our experiences and tell what people need to be aware of, and we share our flyers and posters for people to take and hang up in their communities.”

Each year, the Amara Rose Foundation hosts two big fundraising events – a Remembrance Walk in the fall, and a chili cook-off. Fentanyl Awareness Day – May 7 – is also recognized and commemorated with large presentations. 

While the foundation directly supports those in recovery, mostly with loving moral support, resources and connections, Heidi notes that this year they helped provide rent assistance for one woman, who is working to move forward with her life. “This woman was one of Amara’s best friends, and they used together. She made it, but Amara didn’t. The foundation is very proud of her,” Heidi says. 

Heidi and her family personally saw the pain of stigma surrounding those struggling with addiction. The foundation works hard to educate others that addiction is a disease, and those suffering from it should be met with compassion.

“We raise all these people up as much as we can,” explains Heidi. “We tell and show them that we believe in them, and they’re going to do great things. And they will! We’ve all had many, many conversations both over the phone and face-to-face with so many this year…they need someone to give them hope and to believe in them. We are there for them.”

In addition to a billboard, yard sign, and banner campaign in 2024, the Amara Rose Foundation launched a drink-spike prevention sticker campaign with each sticker featuring messages about fentanyl and Narcan (a medicine to rapidly reverse an opioid overdose). Thousands of stickers have been handed out to bars and nightclubs in several communities. Next will be an awareness ad campaign targeting 13- to 25-year-olds on TikTok and Snapchat, as well as on La Crosse’s WKBT News. Heidi says they’re working on a La Crosse MTU bus ad campaign too and hope to bring awareness to schools and other counties in Wisconsin, Minnesota, and Iowa in the future. 

“We want our work to reduce the number of parents, families and friends suffering from their unimaginable and often unexpected loss,” says Heidi. “We want our stories to keep kids from taking a fake prescription pill laced with fentanyl, to never pick up a joint or a powder or a syringe. We just want to save lives and keep people from experiencing the awful pain that we did…and still are.” 

Tallitha Reese

Tallitha Reese is a freelance writer and content manager based in Cashton, WI. She owns Words By Reese and you can find out more about her and her work at www.wordsbyreese.com.

In stores, parks, and restaurants all over the world, little hearts – smaller than the palm of your hand – are spreading positivity. Crocheted with love in all sorts of colors, the hearts are affixed with tags sending messages of hope and light to all who encounter them. 

These tiny reminders of good are made through The Little Heart Project (TLHP). The project’s creator, Kathleen Jensen, says they’re a “soft entry point” to making a difference in the world.

“At a base level, it is a random act of kindness,” explains Kathleen. But the larger mission of TLHP goes deeper. “We are trying to reduce the stigma around mental health and hopefully prevent suicides.”

This mission statement, “Preventing suicide one heart at a time through serendipitous words of encouragement,” is near to Kathleen’s own heart, as she herself was suicidal every day for eight years. The idea came out of a conversation with her therapist, who knew Kathleen enjoyed crocheting and making art, and mentioned a similar project in Texas, suggesting it might be something Kathleen would enjoy doing in her own community of Onalaska, Wisconsin. 

She had no idea that, now, almost three years later, TLHP would reach people all over the world. But that is exactly what happened. TLHP hearts have been found in 35 states as well as Canada, Central America, Europe, India, and Africa. 

Although she still faces her own mental health challenges, The Little Heart Project has given Kathleen something incredible. “I found my people,” she shares. “What a beautiful, beautiful gift. For so long I lived in a very, very dark world – alone, isolated, very sick. And when I started doing this, I met the most incredible people who want to make this world good.” 

The success of TLHP is one example of how social media can create positivity in the world. Communities of Facebook crochet groups rapidly spread the word about the project. Soon there was a website (thelittleheartproject.org) and social media accounts, and hearts being distributed near and far. 

Kathleen utilizes local groups for help, too. “I have some very faithful crocheters in the La Crosse area who make the hearts for us,” says Kathleen. Students at UW-La Crosse, Viterbo, and Western Technical College have also chipped in, crocheting hearts or tying on inspiring tags. And Kathleen shares the heart template on her website so others can easily contribute as well. It takes only three yards of yarn and, once you know how to do it, less than three minutes to make a heart. Those who help aren’t required to track their inventory, so it’s hard to say how many hearts, in total, have been made since TLHP started. Kathleen does know, though, that 88,000 hearts (and more every day) have made their way out the door of her own home and into the community. 

“I’ve found that people who have lost a loved one to suicide desperately want to do something to help prevent this happening to the next family,” she says. “TLHP has become part of so many people’s healing journey.” She finds it fulfills a need to do something tangible during grief. Plus, there’s no wrong way to participate. “You can leave the hearts anywhere you go. There’s no wrong way to do this,” says Kathleen.

This assistance keeps TLHP going, but it also facilitates important discussions and opportunities for the community to talk about suicide. Kathleen’s position as The Little Heart Project founder has enabled her to speak publicly about suicide in an effort to reduce the shame and stigma around suicide and build support for the project.

“When I first started, I had no intention of speaking to anyone ever about this,” she says. “But when people are brave enough to talk about their mental illness, that lets other people know it’s safe to do the same thing.” From the first time she spoke, Kathleen has seen the benefit of sharing her words and her heart. After speaking to a group at Viterbo, a young lady pulled her aside. “She said, ‘I just wanted to tell you that last night I almost killed myself.’ And she pulls up her sleeves to show me dozens of fresh cuts up and down both arms. And then she said, ‘Being here today and listening to your story, being able to talk to you, I feel better.’” 

Kathleen has folks lining up to share similar stories after each of her speaking engagements. “My degree is in marketing. It’s not like I’m trained in any of this to be able to hear these really, really sad stories,” she says. She holds space for this, though, because she sees the positive impact it has on herself and others.

“It’s helping to take away the shame. Suicide is not a shameful thing. The people that die by suicide, it’s a very dark, lonely place where there is no hope, and you can’t envision there ever being any.” One way she addresses this is to encourage people to say, “died by suicide” rather than “committed suicide.” She explains, “People commit a crime, people commit adultery. People who die by suicide are not criminals. They’re sick.” She also works tirelessly to convey the messages that “talking about suicide does not cause suicide. Hopelessness causes suicide.”

Kathleen has a full-time job, in addition to the time and energy she puts into The Little Heart Project. It is truly a labor of love, fueled by donations and volunteers and the kindness of strangers. She is grateful for everyone who contributes – whether by putting hearts out in their businesses, assisting with TLHP’s web presence, or giving the project exposure at events. 

Requests flood Kathleen’s inbox, often the effect of one person seeing a heart and looking for a way to get involved. She recently fielded an email request for hearts from a director of disaster relief, looking to support those devastated by the hurricanes that hit North Caroline and Tennessee in the fall of 2024. The Little Heart Project sent out 600 hearts. “How do we help those people who now have nothing?” asks Kathleen. “These hearts aren’t going to fix anything, but it will let people know that other people are thinking of them.” 

Positive momentum continues to build. Kathleen had the opportunity to share her mission through PBS Wisconsin’s show, “Wisconsin Life.” The episode featuring Kathleen and TLHP airs January 2, 2025, at 7 pm. She was nominated for the Hometown Hero award by Wisconsin State Representative, Steve Doyle, and the Hometown Hero committee in Madison selected her. This gave her the opportunity to speak about her work to the entire assembly. Governor Tony Evers got word and invited her to chat about TLHP and mental health in the state, as well.

 “It does take a lot of courage to stand up in front of a group of people and talk about all of this, but I know it helps. I have two-and-a-half years of proof. I know now it helps and that’s what I’m going to do – help people.” 

Sara Walters

Sara Walters is a mom and a writer. She has been an Inspire(d) contributor since 2018.