Well, I’ll be a birdie’s uncle…maybe literally.
Hard at work coding a website this afternoon, but a strange banging kept breaking into my concentration. Finally, I looked out the window and saw the bluejays at it again, trying to build a nest on my back porch light.
Apparently the mister bluejay decided that gravity (or the big, gaping hole between light posts) has nothing to do with their continued inability to get twigs to stay on the light. The problem is they just aren’t building hard enough.
What I was hearing was Mr. Bluejay flying full-tilt into the side of the house, ramming the twigs into the light with his head.
Ain’t that just like a man? If it won’t fit, hit it harder.
Mrs. Bluejay sat watching on the deckrail, letting out the occasional exasperated chirp and all but rolling her eyes. I could just hear the conversation:
“But honey, it’s still going to fall. I TOLD you, it doesn’t fit.”
“DEEEEEar, if you’ll just be quiet a minute, I’ve almost got it. See?” (crash) “Damn.”
After about 20 minutes of this, Mrs. Bluejay screeched loudly and left, returning a couple minutes later with a beakful of lichen. Her mate was sitting on the deck, looking exhausted, but she ignored him. She flew to the light, gently laid the fuzzy stuff between the poles. Then she dropped to the deck, picked up the biggest twig–more like a branch, really–from Mr. Bluejay’s enormous stack, and flew back to the light. She gently inserted it into the lichen, wedged it across the poles and…it held.
Mr. Bluejay flew off, smugly followed by his lady, and I went back inside for my camera. I haven’t seen them since. But there’s actually a kind of nesting infrastructure up there now, so maybe I’ll be Auntie Bluejay before too long.