Birds of a Feather

"Hey, guys! Look! C'mere!"
What is it, Jay?
"It's a nest. Big Deal."
"C'mon, Johnny! It's not just ANY nest! It's a Blue Jay's nest!"
And there are two babies in it! Jay, did you see the babies?!?
"Johnny! What are you doing!?! Don't touch it!"
Dude! Leave it alone!

Despite our warnings, Johnny reached up, grabbed the branch supporting the nest, pulled it groundward and released, springing the nest and its contents briefly skyward before gravity toppled them to the ground.
Johnny, Jay and I stopped talking, stepped out of the six-foot tall shrubbery that lined their driveway, and tuned our ears to our surroundings. About ten feet above us, in the lower branches of a towering, ancient oak tree, sat a lone Blue Jay, piercing the air with its defensive screams.

Why'd ya do that!?!
"Geez, Johnny! Whadda we gonna do now?"
"How do you know it's a Blue Jay's nest?"
"Don't you hear them?"

Do you think we upset it by looking at the nest?

"Nah. Blue jays always scream like that."
"They do, Johnny?"
"Yeah. They're just...oh, shit!!"

While the screaming jay perched in the oak tree provided an ominous soundtrack, it's mate began a dive-bombing run directed at annihliating our 11-year-old noggins. We dove to the ground, but that only seemed to incense the upset parents who began a dual bombing campaign, forcing us to scramble for safety in Johnny and Jay's house.

After a couple hours of playing G.I. Joe or Nintendo, the three of us braved the possibility of another Blue Jay attack to check on the remnants of the nest. There beneath the shrubs, amongst piles of dead leaves and budding undergrowth, lay the nest and two blue jays, no more than a few days old. The parents appeared to have abandoned them.

"What should we do?"
"Leave 'em."
"Aw, Johnny! We can't do that! This is our fault. We've gotta do somethin'!"
Should we call the zoo?
"You know...we have an empty birdcage in the basement. Johnny, ya think mom'll let us keep 'em?!?"
Can you keep Blue Jays in a cage? Isn't that illegal?
"It's not illegal. They're just birds."
"I don't know, Jay. Mom might not be happy."
"She loves birds, Johnny. She'll let us keep 'em! Let's get a box and take 'em in and show her!"
"I guess, but I'm ready to say 'I told ya so!'"

It turned out that Johnny and Jay's mom was incredibly supportive of saving the two abandoned Blue Jays that we stumbled upon randomly as we walked up the drive. She cleaned out the bird cage and contacted a vet to find out what steps needed to be taken to ensure the birds'survival while we scrounged for an old shoe box and went back to scoop up the baby birds.

Johnny, Jay, and their mom raised 'Heckle' and 'Jeckle' for at least several months before releasing them back into the wild (or to some other fate) and, as it turns out, with their constant screeching and pecking, Blue Jays might just be the WORST pets ever (after skunks and honey badgers, of course).

---

A month or so ago, I discovered that a pair of Robins had built their nest on the railing of our deck amongst the branches of our climbing rose. When I first looked into the nest, two perfect blue eggs caught my eye and I immediately called for the boys to come and see. The next day we found a third egg in the nest (and I've since learned some fascinating tidbits about Robins here) and the boys seemed excited about the prospect off watching the eggs hatch and baby Robins grow. I was less-than-excited about the prospect of having to ensure our cat, Gretchen, didn't sneak out back and discover such accessible prey.

Tonight we ate dinner outside on the deck to soak up as much of the glorious, dry Spring weather before the heat and humidity of Summer seeps into the region. Before sitting down, I walked past the nest, peeked in and jumped back, startled by the pink, fleshy creature writhing with its beak upstretched.

Oh! Boys! Youv'e gotta see this! Come look!
"What is it, daddy?"
One of the eggs hatched! Come look!
"I see, daddy! I see?"
Just a minute, Wubster. Let Mini-Me look first and then I'll pick you up.
"Wow."
Cool, huh, Mini-Me?!?
"Yeah, I guess."
Here you go, Wubster. Cool, huh?!?
"Is cool, daddy. What is it?"

Maybe I should have made an omelet.