Blue Jay

Against snow-background these handsome rascals give a touch of life and color that makes us forget they are villains. Audacity, a devil-take-the-hindmost air and sky-tinted apparel often save their skins. Destruction of other bird-homes is done stealthily for courage is not in them. I have seen the Rubythroat Hummingbird drive them pellmell thru the brush and even gentle Thrushes defeat their evil intentions. Sharpshin Hawks will kill every bird in the vicinity of their nests but frequently BLUE JAYS will not destroy other homes near their own, going further afield for egg and young bird dainties.

They are clever imitators of many birdcalls and often deceive experienced ornithologists.

They are in our orchard while I write at the open window on this fine September morning, discussing the pay, pay, pay question quite in line with the rest of the world's depression.

Mark Twain's classic about the Jay which tried to fill a barn with acorns, thru a hole in the roof, discussing the futility of the attempt when he looked thru the open door, and the loud guffaws of watchers over the joke, contains some truth for Blue lays have a sense of humor. I have watched them play tag with small hawks and their notes of derision when a Hawk missed its swoop, were as close to laughter as birds can voice.

When nuts mature on two black walnut trees north of our house, red squirrels garner them, carrying the large green globes easily along the snake fence to a câche under the hemlocks. While thus engaged the Blue Jays do not bother them but let one of the rufus-coated imps slip along the grape arbor to the food shelf and Jays are after him instantly.

Whether birds and animals reason must remain debatable because of the indefinite line between instinct and reason. The Blue Jay's distinction between food they could or could not use is certainly reason. Their vocabulary is distinctive as their dress. Most of our birds sing a short while in Spring and then relapse into silence. Not so Mr. Jay. He talks thruout the year and every day, too. It is not all conventional conversation, either! Listen to some Jays baiting an Owl or Hawk and you will hear the choicest assortment of Billingsgate ever uttered in the woods. Swear? My word! No end!

One morning in late November when a gale was driving slants of rain thru the valley, I remembered a sledge I had left under a cliff in the woodlot. Glancing up at the squall-swept surface, I detected a fleck of blue. There were three Blue Jays snuggled in a niche thirty feet up, as comfortable as you please! There I left them — three rollicking buccaneers tamed by the elements so they did not even scold me. After all, isn't it those who, like ancient Greeks, take life's storm and sunshine with a laugh, that we most admire?