Blue Jay |
The Blue Jay is a dependable year-round companion on Halibut Point. Even when things are quiet it makes itself known in a way that makes you feel acknowledged. It seems very deliberate in its movements and social network. Its flamboyant plumage pattern and brassy voice suggest a comfort with itself and with us ground-dwelling humans as we amble along below.
But do we really know what's going on in that Blue Jay mind?
Considering how often I've seen Blue Jays, I realized how little I knew about them.
It's a little like my unrequited relationship with the Kingfisher, of whom I've written recently.
One day a Blue Jay joined this Kingfisher on a lofty perch. I'm not sure if they exchanged words. The Kingfisher turned its head for a look at the intruder.
The Kingfisher gave the Blue Jay the ultimate snub of ignoring it, and resumed its forward gaze over the realm.
The building spectacle attracted a second Blue Jay as the valiant First Challenger took to the air.
The Kingfisher whom I've previously censured as The Devil Bird had only a moment to react. Was I witnessing an exorcism?
The Blue Jay extended itself to its full span, formidable bill in the lead. Did it resent the Kingfisher's blue plumage, rakish crest, and maniacal screech as competing claims on its own distinctions? Was it out to expunge the intruder?
Evidently the Blue Jay's sally failed to change the order of things on that barren perch. The natural world flinched but held in this battle of incorrigible spirits.
I was going to have to sharpen my investigation of the Blue Jay.