Ever since Opie and I rescued a nest of baby Blue Jays this summer, I’ve been obsessed with these birds and been researching them as much as possible.
According to a variety of websites I found Blue Jays are “garrulous and aggressive passerines.”
If you’re like me, you’re wondering what the heck a passerine is. Well, that’s easy. They’re birds of the order of Passeriformes.
Sometimes I hate dictionaries.
In any case, after way too much research, I can tell you that Blue Jays are incredibly loud, a tiny bit obnoxious when your feeders have peanuts, and apparently one of the biggest bad asses of the bird world.
Take yesterday for example. I went over to the park to take a few pictures and as soon as I got out of the car, I heard the unmistakable screech of not one, not two, not even three but at least 4 Blue Jays. I looked up and saw what was literally over a dozen, in and around the same tree, screaming at the top of their lungs.
Daphne du Maurier fan that I am, I immediately started thinking about The Birds. I never saw the Hitchcock movie but I read the short story and it was all kinds of creepy. The fact that it’s set in early December was one coincidence too many and I pretty much assumed I was about to be pecked to death.
But I am nothing if not a dedicated artist. So, in spite of the fact I was fully prepared to run for my life, I took a couple of quick shots, paused long enough to review then and said “Whoa, that one in the middle isn't a blue Jay, it's a freaking hawk.”
Don’t get me wrong, I think hawks are beautiful and strong and I like seeing them (unless, of course, they’re lurking in my back tree hungrily eyeing a small, rabbit-looking dog in a red dress).
But, let’s be honest: they’re killers. They are natural predators and they strike fear in the heart of smaller birds.
Except, apparently, Blue Jays.
At least the Blue Jays hanging out in Hunter Park yesterday. Because as I watched, the hawk was besieged by a whole battalion of Blue Jays. I mean, those birds were EVERYWHERE. It was like every Blue Jay in a 2 mile radius flocked (pun totally intended) to this small area of the park to fight off the hawk.
And they were freakishly organized.
The ones in the tree were dive-bombing the hawk, circling the tree, diving back in then, when they got tired, started switching places with the whole minor brigade of Blue Jays hanging out in this bush:
In the meantime, others were standing at attention on the branches of the trees surrounding the main tree, waiting for orders.
Some were stationed on the bottom of the trees, poised for flight, ready to fly into the fray.
And there were a bunch on the perimeters, as if they were on sentry duty. Like my favorite little warrior who I totally related to:
I loved him because in the unfortunate and almost unimaginable instance in which I would be a soldier, I would also be like “Seriously, if you expect me to stand here, watching for the enemy and NOT running away screaming, I’m going to need a snack.”
In the end, as far as I could see, the hawk flew as far away as his wings could take him and the Blue Jays hopped around proudly, preening and most likely saying things like "Did you see when I got him in the tail?" and "That was nothing, I almost took off his whole wing!" I'm sure they later all went out to celebrate at the birdie bar and chat up all the female Blue Jays with stories about their daring exploits.
So, as I said, they're pretty much bad asses. A little braggy, perhaps but bad asses all the same!
In any case, I got a ton of pics of them yesterday and I'll have more on the website soon. In the meantime, if you want a print of any of the above, just shoot me an email at shotinthepark@gmail.com
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