The watchers

With a flurry of wings and spread tail, a blue jay adjusts its position on the feeder that holds the black-oil sunflower seeds. Greedy, it stuffs as many as it can in the pouch behind its beak, and then flies off.

A blue jay called me shortly after dawn this morning as I was out taking pictures of the rising sun. I believe it was reminding me that I had yet to put the feeders out.

Wherever I've lived, jays seem to be quickly aware when there is a sympathetic human around and when food may be available. They have constantly harassed me with screams if I've forgotten to fill a feeder or haven't been quick enough to get feeders removed in the evening to prevent marauding racoons, out in the morning - particularly those cold snowy winter mornings when birds are most often looking for suet.

I love their raucous alerts.

Where I lived before this, they would hang around when I went outside to try to photograph them. But here they are more exposed and fly off if there is movement behind the screen door in the sun room as one fellow euphemistically calls the entrance to my current home. This morning I tried again with the camera after seeing several jays - two in the feeder, one on nearby chairs I'd removed from the deck so the roofers could get to their work this morning, and several on the ground and nearby cedars waiting their turn at filling their gullets.

All this bird activity makes me chuckle. The chickadees and white-breasted nuthatches pay no attention to the jays except they do fly in when the robber-birds start screaming that foods on the table so to speak.

Such a blessing to be able to enjoy Mother Nature's gifts - of all kinds.