WOODS ON TOP OF MOUNTAIN
This is a story about a Blue Jay. It’s also a tale about a ‘Murder of Crows’.
You see, a little over a week ago I was sitting in the woodshed listening to the squeaking and rustling of a squirrel and family in the firewood pile. I was worrying about them because I worry about weird things. I was also worried because I had used up most of the third row of firewood and would soon be removing wood from the second row.
You see, a little over a week ago I was sitting in the woodshed listening to the squeaking and rustling of a squirrel and family in the firewood pile. I was worrying about them because I worry about weird things. I was also worried because I had used up most of the third row of firewood and would soon be removing wood from the second row.
HOW DO WE GET THROUGH WINTER?
Now, to be fair to myself, I had explicitly warned the squirrel that she would have to build her nest near the bottom of the first row. If not, then she would risk having her nest exposed. I don’t think she took my advice, because I believe she built her nest near the middle of the second row.
From time to time she’ll pop out of her nest, climb up on the rafters and look down at me. Sometimes she even directs profanity my way as she stamps her feet and gets all worked up.
From time to time she’ll pop out of her nest, climb up on the rafters and look down at me. Sometimes she even directs profanity my way as she stamps her feet and gets all worked up.
WHY DON'T YOU TAKE A PICTURE
Anyway, this particular afternoon, I was sitting in the woodshed. Probably enjoying a glass of one of our local Cape Breton brewery’s beer. The brewery is called ‘Big Spruce’ and the organic beer I was drinking is called ‘Kitchen Party’. It’s a pale ale which has a nice poetic ring to it.
So, there I was, sitting in the woodshed, looking at the large expanse of snow covering our property, when I suddenly saw a Blue Jay smash her noggin into a snow drift. The poor Blue Jay was flailing and flapping around and not getting anywhere soon, except to screw himself or herself deeper into the snow.
So, there I was, sitting in the woodshed, looking at the large expanse of snow covering our property, when I suddenly saw a Blue Jay smash her noggin into a snow drift. The poor Blue Jay was flailing and flapping around and not getting anywhere soon, except to screw himself or herself deeper into the snow.
HARDIEST MAN IN CAPE BRETON
I went into my living-in-the-woods-emergency-action mode. I pushed up from the orange beach chair and waded through the snow until I was looking down at the Blue Jay.
As soon as I arrived he or she stopped thrashing about and I was able to stoop down and touch the bird. He or she never made a move. I was able to pick the jay up and walk us back to the woodshed.
While walking I talked to the Blue Jay. Told him or her that I wouldn’t hurt him or her.
By the way, from this point on I’m going to call the Blue Jay a her.
So I spoke to her and tried to calm her and the Blue Jay actually turned her head and looked at me while I was talking, as if she was really listening. This I found rather strange and humbling. It was a very intelligent reaction from a wild critter.
As soon as I arrived he or she stopped thrashing about and I was able to stoop down and touch the bird. He or she never made a move. I was able to pick the jay up and walk us back to the woodshed.
While walking I talked to the Blue Jay. Told him or her that I wouldn’t hurt him or her.
By the way, from this point on I’m going to call the Blue Jay a her.
So I spoke to her and tried to calm her and the Blue Jay actually turned her head and looked at me while I was talking, as if she was really listening. This I found rather strange and humbling. It was a very intelligent reaction from a wild critter.
FOX SEEN THROUGH KITCHEN WINDOW
I carried the bird into the woodshed, sat down, opened my hands and the Blue Jay flew away.
We noticed, after this incident, that one of the many Blue Jays who frequent our Big Stop bird feeder wasn’t very energetic. She hung around the bird feeder or sat on the ground or on a branch and was lethargic, and at one point I went outside and approached the bird and had to nudge her before she’d fly away.
We noticed, after this incident, that one of the many Blue Jays who frequent our Big Stop bird feeder wasn’t very energetic. She hung around the bird feeder or sat on the ground or on a branch and was lethargic, and at one point I went outside and approached the bird and had to nudge her before she’d fly away.
POOR BLUE JAY
So, what about the Murder of Crows thing? Well, a few years ago I stepped out of an arena and was startled to hear an angry flock of crows cawing their feathery heads off. There must have been at least a dozen or more crows on the roof. All hysterically cawing at a crow on the ground who was beating the stuffings out of another crow. It was amazing to see how blood thirsty they seemed to be.
HOAR FROSTED BUSH
I felt sorry for the poor victim so I walked up and kicked snow at the crows and it stopped the fight. The victim flew away and the crowd followed like mad spectators at a golf tournament.
Later on, when I was in the grocery store, the clerk mentioned that those crows are really going at it somewhere in town. I knew that it was the Murder of Crows who were watching one of their own murder a crow at another unmentioned location.
Later on, when I was in the grocery store, the clerk mentioned that those crows are really going at it somewhere in town. I knew that it was the Murder of Crows who were watching one of their own murder a crow at another unmentioned location.
FASHION CONSCIOUS HIKING BUDDY
So, back to the Blue Jay story. A few days ago I was inside when I suddenly heard a mass of crows cawing to beat the band. Going crazy. A blood thirsty mob and Buster and I made a run for the living room window.
PEACEFUL CROWS
Often, when we’ve heard the crows doing this, we’ve figured it was because the hawk was back grocery shopping or there was a cat outside, those sorts of things.
When Buster and I looked out the window we saw that the crows were in the trees cheering on one crow who was pecking a poor Blue Jay to death. Most likely the Blue Jay who I had picked up about a week before.
By the time I got outside the Blue Jay was dead. Thus the name Murder of Crows.
When Buster and I looked out the window we saw that the crows were in the trees cheering on one crow who was pecking a poor Blue Jay to death. Most likely the Blue Jay who I had picked up about a week before.
By the time I got outside the Blue Jay was dead. Thus the name Murder of Crows.
