My neighbors: The bluejays

Squirrely started it. Or was it Pattze? Another chicken or the egg situation of taking two to tango. It doesn't matter much to point a finger; this story is about the bluejays anyways. Pattze was leaving nuts and other snacks out for these critters. Jay saw Squirrely getting snacks and wanted in on the action. He joined the peanut party and his partner Blue soon followed. It didn't take long for these backyard neighbors to think of me as another part of the yard, like a fixture. They'd probably been watching me doing yoga and exercising on the back porch for years and I never noticed. I like to think that doing something like yoga, slow, calm, meditative made me seem all the more friendly and inviting. So do peanuts. Trust is built through shared food. What they likely saw was that I had a stash of peanuts in my pocket or on my mat, and they saw how the game was played. We often think we're not a part of nature. These animals are watching our every move, and they are everywhere. If we don't stop to pay attention, we can miss them. If we do slow down a bit, we can start a conversation with those around us. Sit still, observe, tend to the plants and be loving with your pets, drink your drink out there, read a book, draw or color, have dinner, be calm. And carry some treats!

At first, I would bring a few peanuts out with me in my pocket or on my mat. Squirrely got closer and closer over time, until she began reaching right into my pocket. Jay quickly took notice and followed suit. He's a little more cautious maybe skeptical, but quite vocal and demanding. Boundary lines are so interesting, invisible yet meaningful. Variable. Moveable. Over time, shrinking.  Ten feet. Five feet. Two feet. Inches from my extended hand. This was a difficult step, and I needed to look the other direction. Eye contact is threatening and birds are prey animals, which tend to have eyes on the side of their heads. One eye finds food while the other keeps a lookout, like birds, horses, fish and squirrels. Predators have eyes at the front of their face to better focus in on the prey, like humans, bears, wolves, foxes, owls and hawks. When approaching a prey animal, it sometimes helps to go at them with a side eye. This is hard to do. I feel like that gopher from the old memes. It makes them feel more comfortable. Using this trick, I was able to get Jay to grab the peanut from my open palm. I have better luck when I just completely look the other way. Pro tip: don't look away with squirrels. They might take your finger instead! Better tip: There are no pros, just idiots like me. Don't hand feed wild animals. You will get scratched and bit.

This idea of becoming closer to the neighbors started when I went to Santa Barbara. I took a walk with my nephew, and we ran into a woman who fed her neighbor scrub jays by hand. She simply held up a peanut and the jay swooped down and grabbed it. I was so excited, we run home to tell everyone. Immediately my mom went outside and began throwing salted peanuts at some jay in the yard. That went nowhere quick, as did the tiny peanut thrown by an old cocktailing woman. It was quite hilarious though!

I haven't kept up with the hand feeding due to jays nesting, winter, and aggressive tweaker-like squirrels who also learned the game, chasing me and jumping at my door like we were in a horror movie. Trust waned slightly (for all of us), but the familiarity is still there. I always know when Jay is near, I did mention he was vocal. He screams '"Jay, Jay, Jay", announcing his presence and calling me to run out with nuts. He never comes to the other windows to find me like my other neighbors do. His voice, my attentive ear and desire to please is all he needs. His partner Blue is a lot quieter. I honestly don't know who the male or female is, their feathers look so similar. My eyes are not trained on the details yet. I'm working on that through photos and sketching. It's a slow learning process. For now, I go off of behavior and decided the louder, more aggressive and sure bird is the male, Jay. The more quiet and reserved bird is the female, Blue. This year, Blue had some feathers on her shoulder come in funny after her late summer molt, so I have a little cheat for now. Blue sits patiently, a little more distant, a lot less demanding. She murmurs a quiet song but still gets plenty of peanuts. I try to make it fair, and they aren't incredibly greedy or quick to eat them. Sometimes they fly off with the one and hiding it away somewhere for later.

I watched as one did this once. I said to myself out loud, "Well, that was a shitty job of hiding a nut", only to walk directly over there and not be able to find it myself. They're tricksters and quite cunning. They might pretend to hide it if someone else is watching, but it could've also been like when I'd watch the dog poop, go in to get a bag or shovel, and then spend five minutes searching the area. Their memory and spatial awareness are very good, unlike mine. Like the squirrels, they can remember where they hid their nuts and find them later, when food is scarcer. And we think humans are the only animals with the skill of foresight and have these wonderfully advanced brains. 

Blue Jays have often been labeled as bullies. After watching them, I might disagree. Sure, their large size and demeanor make them intimidating. Their smarts and loud voices can make them seem dominant and they are coercive with their mimicry of other birds. Ok, sure, that's most of the definition of bullying. But are they seeking to cause harm? I have yet to see a blue jay cause harm. With my eyes. Rumor has it they eat other birds' eggs. Ok, maybe they're bullies. I've seen grackles fly off with a bird in their mouth while all the sparrows squawked and the house finches stared in disbelief, but they aren't related. Blue jays are more closely related to crows, ravens and magpies than they are to grackles. All very smart birds and quite tricky. Maybe they hide the evil side from me.  Innocent til proven guilty?

Molting Bluejay getting some much needed protein to help grow new feathers.

This winter Blue and Jay invited a new pair of jays over. These two don't have names yet. They also haven't quite grasped how the dance works. I always knew there were more in the neighborhood, but it's so hard to tell. They come and go so quickly and get lost in the tree line and go past my view. About a month ago I heard Jay explaining the deal. They were hesitant but got a few nuts. They've started venturing over by themselves occasionally. Today they came by with Blue. One was noisy. Neither one knows to follow my hand, look at me, or the peanut. I threw a few out and they didn't follow; kind of like our old dog Barley, who never learned to play catch. This time I didn't throw a nut at their faces and have it bounce of their foreheads! Maybe they'll catch on in time. So will I. I'll keep observing them and learning more each day. They will too.