A Jay Goes Nuts

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This is a tale about a Stellar’s jay, 

Who came and visited me day by day. 

With a body blue and head black as night,

Daringly close and staying so near, 

Staring me down, displaying no fear, 

On a perch nearby, it made quite a sight,

Sometimes it came only to my feet, 

As I stepped outside and walked toward the street, 

With no intention to create a stir.

It would land and get to pecking at the ground, 

Till my footsteps made a scuffing type of sound, 

And then fly upward in a blue-black blur.

Or it might perch on the open car door, 

And stare me down for a minute or more, 

Fluttering up to avoid my hand,

When I made a swatting motion, 

Fear of me a silly notion, 

And then again on my doorframe land.

Sometimes on my windshield front it stood, 

Perching on the wipers so it could, 

Get into pecking against the glass.

Was this tapping a sort of code? 

Or was its real intent to goad? 

Should I be feeling a bit harassed?

And then it started coming to my porch, 

To guide my way like carrying a torch, 

Leading me earnestly on my descent,

Hopping step to step all the way down, 

Just ahead of me reaching the ground, 

Leaving me wondering what this all meant.

When I returned, it stared back undaunted, 

Still on my porch, as if what it wanted, 

Was really such an apparent thing.

I thought conversation worth a quick try. 

Ignoring all that, it flew to my thigh, 

And took a peck at my wedding ring.

And so I wondered, what could this all mean,
These friendly actions that I'd never seen? 

Could it be a whisperer I'd become?

Giving some hope to the creatures with wings? 

Would they be bowing and calling me king? 

Was it all the birdies, or only some?

And was it beyond just birds alone, 

These thoughts in my head began to drone. 

To what others might I seem enthralling?

Were there other creatures on my lawn, 

Who to me were feeling strangely drawn, 

Like a sailor to a siren's calling?

Or could this bird be my spirit guide, 

To give out wise counsel by my side, 

A mythical creature, sent from above?

Or maybe it was a long-lost soul, 

Returned to fulfill a simple goal, 

To bring me glad tidings brimming with love.

Or a guardian angel, perhaps, 

Watching out for security gaps, 

That hide in this life so full of perils,

Like kitten scratches and those spider bites, 

Fiery dragons and dark-armored knights, 

And monkey attacks with rolling barrels.

But over time, its focus altered. 

This heed to me, it slowly faltered, 

As its time was consumed by other grief.

Its opponent had a great big tail, 

And could sniff a nut out without fail, 

My backyard’s daring little master thief.

There was the bird in the garden jumping, 

Hopping around as it buried something, 

And then the thief, with paws that held,

Like a prize trophy just recently caught, 

Where it came from, I confess I knew not, 

What seemed to be a peanut shell.

The squirrel would leave, having stuffed its face. 

Blue feathers would then land in that same place, 

Flapping about and cackling with dismay.

The bird I saw clearly getting steamed. 

They both in my observation seemed, 

Plainly were heading toward a great big fray.

And so I gradually found this out, 

By watching carefully like a scout, 

That what caused this behavior so rude,

The pecking and clawing around at the ground, 

The crowing and cawing about things not found, 

Was a mutual fondness for food.

Then I had to ask if that was why, 

That bird had been giving me the eye. 

Could its intentions not be so nice?

Was I suspected of robbing birds? 

I was surmising, in other words, 

That I was being framed for the heist.

But then came along my final clue. 

From my neighbor’s lot it proudly flew, 

And landed nearby with a peanut to eat.

On hardened ground, it attacked the nut’s shell, 

And reached the nut, a technique it knew well, 

And swallowed its prey, missing nary a beat.

I gazed over at my neighbor’s yard, 

And thought maybe there was nothing hard, 

For cracking shells on that side of the fence.

It must be getting food over there, 

And coming over here, near its lair. 

So now these things were making much more sense.

And so, this small enigma unraveled, 

And I became a little less baffled. 

I pictured it, my neighbor out there,

Bait held aloft for an ebony beak, 

Bird swooping in, like a black-and-blue streak, 

To snatch its prize right out of midair.

My neighbor would be standing as he smiled, 

And maybe kind of acting like a child, 

A slim, tall person, with hair going gray.

Then I saw me, in windows’ reflections, 

Kind of tall too, with graying in sections. 

I too must look like I’d give nuts away.

And suddenly it all became clear. 

No avian was holding me dear. 

I had done no deed to make me stand out.

The bird was never my spirit guide, 

Much less a visit from one who died. 

It had just come by, to seek a handout.

So this tale was one of love, you see, 

Though the bird’s regard was not for me. 

Because there’s love with no ifs, ands, or buts.

Some folks adore the person who you are, 

And stick with you wherever, near or far. 

But wild blue birds? They might just want some nuts.