Tuesday, May 22, 2007


The blue jays came to build a nest in the blue spruce near the glass door where I smoke. Besides smoke, I also talk to myself and even jump or shout occasionally. The househusband who lives down the hill with his wife and daughter has not complained. Once, during the day, I yelled, "Get me outta here!" like a smoking Jane Fonda. I was recalling being in a hospital in Houston, where of course, I did not shout or yell. Holler is a southern word fer it.

Slowly, but surely, the female and the two male bluejays had built the nest. It is the best evergreen in the yard. The males were positioning toward the spruce in the front yard -- white, I think, but the woman bluejay chose the blue one. I kept smoking and slamming the glass door as usual. Soon, she was nesting in her little basket. She was soft and endearing. The two males came near occasionally, even once stood guard.

The cat was at my feet. I have tried to talk with him, but he is no Franny, who could respond to ordinary verbal remarks. The new cat, Wally, is a teenager. He killed a finch last week. We are eager for the birds -- whose numbers have diminished recently, the newspaper says due to swine flu [West Nile Virus]; I don't like to think about "flu" too much, so would rather just cheer on birds to replenish. That we had a nest was a great boon to my spirits. Blue jays eat the eggs of other birds, so my mother was acting uninterested in hearing of the nest nor did she seem worried that Wally might kill the mother jay, which thought drove me to distraction. One day, after watching her for days, she did not return to the nest. After many hours had passed, I went inside the branches of the tree to see whether eggs were in it. None was there. I inquisitioned Wally, who remained silent. He acted like a turd and went under that tree for a nap. Alas, I suppose he ate her. I hate him, but I reflect that at the same age, all my wunderbar cat Fran did was snap the heads off lizards in the yard in Houston.

The male jays have returned to the nest to peck it a bit. They shouldn't have left the woman so alone. They should have guarded her. They act confused. She built most of the nest for their little group. They are probably wondering how to transport it, how to take it with them. They or she wove a plant marker they had pilfered from my mother's gardens into the nest, label side out. It says, "$24.99. Dwarf Korean lilac."

1 comment:

Christa M. Forster said...

Satisfaction! Thank you.