Listening to the news each morning on my favourite CBC morning program can be disheartening some days. What with rancorous political debates, hurricanes and typhoons, ongoing wars, and petty acts of violence in my own province, it’s been a great pleasure to make the acquaintance of a pair of blue jays who are now daily visiting our new birdfeeder.

            We’re not real birders. We know very little about most birds, and can recognize only a limited number of birds. However, we have had a couple of bird feeders hanging in our back yard for years now. Mostly they were patronized by sparrows and chickadees, with some nuthatches, the occasional flicker, and, every now and then, a determined magpie trying to get at the peanut butter log. The feeders were far enough away from our kitchen window that we often used binoculars to observe the birds. Every now and then, we did spot blue jays high in the trees; their brilliant blue plumage was so easy to recognize, and so was their distinctive shriek.  

            Then we attached a new feeder directly to a bedroom window and stocked it with black sunflowers seeds and whole peanuts. So far, the seeds remain untouched but it didn’t take long for the local blue jays to discover this new source for a peanut feast. I have been enchanted by their beauty and their cleverness. Once they became accustomed to the surroundings, they became indifferent to our presence in the room, unless we moved too quickly. We could actually stand quite close to watch them.

            Sometimes, the jays quickly grabbed a peanut and flew away. Other times, he (or she – there’s no way of telling them apart) carefully pinned the peanut to the edge of the wooden feeder with his claws and hammered the shell apart with his beak to get at the peanuts inside. To my amazement, I learned that blue jays have a capacious pouch beneath their beaks. They can simply swallow two whole peanuts and then grab a third in their beak before flying away. Where they stash their peanuts, I don’t know for sure, but the grass under the linden tree in our front yard is now littered with peanut shells. Blue jays, it seems, are messy neighbours.

            Also noisy. I have been startled awake more than once by a blue jay screaming right beside the open bedroom window. When my heart beat returns to normal, I just smile and think, “Enjoy your breakfast, my friend.”

            I choose to face the window for my usual morning exercises and yoga, so I can watch my lovely new friends. Usually, they come one at a time, waiting their turn if necessary, but sometimes two will sit together on the ledge of the feeder, cocking their heads as they choose the next peanut (they prefer them whole, so they can do their own breaking of the shell). Gradually, I am beginning to recognize different patterns in the grey and white of their breast plumage, and the black rings around their necks have slight differences as well. So I’ve concluded that our feeder is being patronized by one couple—they mate for life, according to websites I’ve checked.  

            Although I can see that this new relationship is going to cost us a fair amount of peanut money, I have no regrets. Even on the coldest day of winter, I will happily don boots and coat to go out to replenish the feeder. That sudden flash of blue and the curious black eyes checking me out warm my heart. Go ahead and shriek, if you need to. You are welcome in our yard.

            Human relationships are considerably more complex, of course, yet I have pondered how we might make sure that all of us are fed, regularly, without embarrassment or struggle. Why do we smile over bird feeders (going to great lengths to develop various feeders to accommodate different beaks and appetites), yet label the human version, often with disdain in our voices, as “soup kitchens”? That may be a ludicrous equivalent: we are not birds and our habitats and needs are far more varied. Still, couldn’t we pay more attention to providing the kind of habitats that would allow us to thrive? And make sure that all of us get more than just randomly served peanuts?