Beautiful Blue Corvids
In which I fall in love with blue jays
I’ve always harbored a quiet love for blue jays, those oft-maligned backyard beauties. When folks speak harshly of them, I usually come back with a feeble, “But they’re so pretty,” to which no one can argue.
Well knock me over with a feather! I’ve just learned that jays are corvids, and I feel justified. Don’t we all love corvids? Big-brained, intelligent, and adaptable, it’s no wonder humans are enchanted with crows and their ilk, placing them in our creation stories and fables throughout history. I’m now proudly outing myself as a true-blue blue jay fan.
This fascination began in early childhood. Blue jays were the first birds I could identify by sight and sound. My brother and I found ourselves rescuing baby blue jays regularly. We would see jay birds divebombing our dog Bowzer. Cued, we’d put on football helmets and rush out to wrest the fallen jays. Of all the little birds that came and went in our lives, most were baby jays.
The first bird I successfully raised by myself was a jay bird. I was in junior high, my parents were recently divorced, my brother was out perfecting the art of juvenile delinquency, and nobody else had time for a baby bird. I tended that little one with round-the-clock care until it was fully feathered and flying. At that point I named…
