When out on the roof there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Just as the poem says, early this Christmas morning I really did hear a clatter on my roof and I sprang from my chair to see what was the matter.
There he was on my chimney, replete with a white-trimmed red cap. I’m not making this up — I took a picture.
The truth is out: Santa Claus is a Pileated Woodpecker.