Waifs Of The Woodlands

Day 56: Little Grey Jay (Perisoreus canadensis), branded with the nickname of "camp robber," comes down for the winter from his home in alpine country, pleading for his breakfast with the softest and most plaintive mews. My heart melts when these precious folk arrive on my doorstep as they have done for many years. Only a few come...four or five at most...to compete with the larger Steller's Jays for whatever tidbits they can get.

Grey Jay is so personable that he will sit on the head or hand of a total stranger who happens to be backpacking through his domain. He'll snitch a graham cracker out of your mouth while your attention is on the rest of his clan. But he is not brazen, only prudent. He takes his booty to a forked branch and cements it in place with sticky saliva, secured there for retrieval during the coldest days when foraging is scant.

A member of the family of Corvidae which includes all Jays as well as Crows and Ravens, Grey Jay is a smart little fellow. I'm convinced he knows he's cute, and I know he knows I'm a soft touch for at least half my backpacker's lunch when he comes around.