A single blue jay – science tells us that its tufted feathers make it a part of the Cyanocitta cristata family – keeps circling my backyard. I sit just a few feet away, a cold sweet drink and e-reader in hand, on a sun-blistered, suburban gray deck. If I had a stopwatch, I might be tempted to record the minutes passing between each attempt at a meal. (One was wholly successful, though – the target still writhing moments after being sucked out of its underground hiding place.)
I can only guess why this garrulous creature continues to eye me. Trying, perhaps, to calculate just how long it will take for me to pounce on him once I make some threatening movement in his general direction.
I won’t, of course.
I have no future plans for him, either dead or alive. I’m not really sure that he’d fully appreciate that even if he understood.
Well, he’s free to stay as long as he’d like this summer. He can even bring some friends next time.
I’ll be sitting here, sipping from my now cool drink – perhaps even reading – just a bit longer.
Image credit: Pixabay
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