Cyanocitta cristata
My earliest inclination to pay attention to Blue-Jays, probably had something to do with the fact that both the birds and myself were referred to as “Jay”. My earliest instincts toward curiosity were immensely stimulated. This probably started within a few days or weeks of my birth. My family had an place on Newfound Lake in NH and we spent an enormous amount of time there until I was much older. As I near my 60th birthday, this lifelong relationship with this species, continues unabated.
Jays, like over half of all bird species, are passerine. Passerines are sometimes referred to as “perching birds” or “songbirds”. They form one of the most diverse vertebrate orders. For example, they have twice as many species as the largest mammal order, Rodentia. Blue Jays are of the family Corvidae, also referred to as the “crow family”. Other members of this family include crows, ravens, magpies, and nutcrackers.
The Blue Jay (Cyanocitta cristata) is part of group known as “American Jays” or “New World Jay’s”. American Jays include a variety of scrub jays and magpies, including Stellar’s Jay (Cyanocitta stelleri): the Florida Scrub Jay (Aphelocoma coerulescens); the Pinyon Jay (Gymnorhinus cyanocephalus); the White-throated Magpie-Jay, (Calocitta Formosa); and the Black-billed Magpie (Pica hudsonia).
Corvids are very intelligent birds. This is true of the Blue Jay. They display complex emotions, relationships, and behavior that reveal a very sophisticated species. The have very tight family units. They have a remarkable language that uses succinct nuanced vocalizations, expansive posturing, and distinct social relationships. The Blue Jay, like other corvids is a very social species. The socialize with their own species, and with other species including humans. The vocalizations alone, well documented, help to characterize these relationships. These birds are characterized for instance by their raucous and sometimes festive gatherings. They are known for their loud warning calls that alert all about to the presence of predators such as hawks or human hunters. They are known for their persistent scolding if things are not going the way they think they should be going. They have often expressed pointed opinions toward me about my activities relative to feeder stations, and other activity that they wish to comment on. Sometimes when I get too near to a more or less avian-specific gathering, or a nest, and often when I am just innocently walking a trail or across a meadow they endeavor to express an opinion. Often they are just letting others know that I am in the territory. Sometimes they alert me to the presence of others.
Hear Blue-Jay vocalizations here: http://www.allaboutbirds.org/guide/Blue_Jay/sounds
What is commonly referred to as the Jays warning call, the loud “Jay, Jay, Jay” is a distinctive and important vocalization. Jays will use this call when they are engaged in mobbing of a crow, or bird of prey. Crows, in the same bird family will use these calls for the same purpose. I have often noted that they will also use it when passing above a creature including deer, fox, and humans, walking in the woods or in the fields. This “marking” behavior plays a role in alerting other animals of the presence of a potential intruder. I know that and when I am out and about, especially in more wilderness areas, I pay attention. I have friends that swear that Blue Jays will find wandering feeral cats and follow them and make this call sound. My grandfather used to tell me that the Jays were marking my presence for other animals. He also taught me that if we listened to the Jays and crows we could find other animals, mobbed hawks or owls, and sometimes deer.
Other Jays songs and calls are very familiar. There is the sound resembling the liquid gurgle of the swinging gate. This is a beautiful and surreal, melodious, and soft. I am not sure exactly how the bird uses this song but sometimes it there is a response with the same vocalization from other Jays. I think it indicates tenderness and relationships. Perhaps this helps them keep track of each other. They also have a number of other calls and songs, some quite sweet and gentle, some startling and harsh. Breeding and fledging season bring out a whole new world of vocalizations.
Jays also like to imitate and mimic other birds. This includes from my personal observation, catbirds, cardinals, and hawks. It’s a close call on the catbird mimic but sometimes it seems like they are actually imitating a real cat. Catbirds themselves are mimicers, so this language gets very complicated. I have spent considerable time talking with Blue-Jays. If I get lucky I can make vocalizations and a Blue-Jay or two will stare listen or at least appear to stare at me curiously. Once in a while they will tilt their heads as if a sound that I made is very interesting. Occassionally a Jay will talk back to me. Usually this happens when they are about to depart. I have noticed that they will sometimes emit a little gurgle and fly off. I am not an expert but I like to shout “see ya later”. They are probably saying, “Not if I see you first”.
Blue-Jays are classified as “omnivores” and will eat other animals including mice, frogs, other birds and eggs, caterpillars, grasshoppers, and beetles as well as fruits, seeds, and nuts. They are subject to the predation of hawks, and crows. Blue Jay eggs and young are especially vulnerable. The Blue Jay has been observed using tools such as sticks to get food. It can live for a relatively long time. Blue Jays studied in the wild have been identified at 17 or more years old. One captive female is reported to have lived 27 years. Research suggests that the average life span of a Blue Jay is 7 years. Both sexes are capable of mating at one year.
Blue jays are thought to be monogamous with pairs bonding for life. Some of their behavior includes bobbing motions when in courtship and when being aggressive.. It is thought that submission is signaled by fluffing up of feathers, and raising the crest.
Their range covers much of central and eastern Canada and the United States from the north to Florida and Texas. They are more frequently seen on the northern west coast and have become common in the San Francisco area. Jays can migrate in large flocks hundreds of miles, depending on conditions such as weather and food supply. They are very adaptable and their habitats are diverse and wide ranging.
It is thought that during the end of the last glacial epoch, about 12,000 years ago in the Niagara Region when the ice was receding, Blue-Jays were primarily responsible for spreading the seeds of the Oak and Beech forests, thus helping the hardwood forest expand as the climate warmed. They have long been a part of our native ecology.
At Protection Farm we see Blue Jays year round.
Depending precisely on seasons and weather conditions, we often see them gathered in noisy flocks of varying sizes. They roost in woodlands and love pines and other evergreens for cover. They enjoy many habitats for access to food ranging from nuts and seeds to insects and other small animals.
They come to our feeders often commanding the scene with a precise and determined presence that seems to tell the other creatures present that disorder will not be tolerated.
More than once I have observed some sort of terrible squabble going on at the feeders. Have no doubt that when the critters get riled up they can put up an attention-getting ruckus that attracts all sorts of eyes and ears, including predators that are anxious to take advantage. Sometimes it starts with Red Squirrels complaining and fighting. Chickadees, juncos, and cardinals join the fray. Nuthatches and woodpeckers will come in and observe. It all comes to order when the Blue jays, sometimes a pair, sometimes more, come screaming in, take up posts and aggressively challenge the gathered mob to either quiet down or disperse. This almost always works, except when there are crows present. In the pecking order, even solitary crows often seem to be slightly above the Jays. (of course it is not abnormal to see a flock of jays mobbing a crow)
Their behavior jumps quite to the other extreme when it comes time to cross open territory such as fields and meadows.
This past month of January I have been outside nearly every day. Toward the late afternoon and evening I have observed over our Protection Farm fields, Jays moving in flocks. It seems that they are keenly aware of my presence. Scouts see me, mark me and move on to an appropriate post. The word of my presence travels fast. I am not sure how far it travels.
The sizes of the flocks varies. Sometimes four or five, sometimes a dozen or more. When they come to the edge of the fields what already seems like serious business seems to have an organized uptick.
The birds settle. Scouts appear to check out the crossing. There are vocalizations of “Jaay”, or “Jay, Jay” that seem to be pointed. There are calls, and often responses. The voices seem distinct, inflections and nuances are clear, but it is generally this alerting “Jay” call that dominates the air.
It is easy to think that they are signaling their locations to the other Jays. There often seems to be a call and response going on. And then, suddenly, one by one they become solitary silent rockets flying low and straight over the open ground crossing from one side cover to another.
There are many individual flocks that are crossing and it is easy to speculate there is a lot of familiarity amongst individuals and the flocks and groups. These probably are family groups, and probably related groups that have been flocking together through the winter, the seasons, and possibly even the years.
There may even be a few trusted scouts and leaders that are recognized by the other birds that are on duty. Maybe they move on and others take there place.
It appears clear that there is an avian culture that seems to have complex activities and behaviors, can act very disciplined, or outrageously unruly. They appear to act cooperatively with other Blue Jays and Blue Jay groups
Recently at Protection Farm, we had a midwinter warm up. The great snows of earlier in the winter have all but disappeared with only a few patches of the white stuff lingering in the big plowed piles and in the occasional low spots. The marsh is flooded like I have never seen it. This is both due to the melt and to the, I am sure, work of the beavers that built there over the late summer. It is magnificent.
One day last winter Jonna and i were in the house with the kitchen door open just a little bit (it was almost 50 degrees). We heard a very distinct hawk like call very close by.. And then again. It sounded like a red tail but how could one be so close? The call shook the house. Would a Red-tail perch on the porch and make the call? The sound was coming from just outside the kitchen door and we slowly peeked our heads around half-expecting to see one. There on the porch rail instead was a big Blue Jay. It was puffing its neck feathers, fluffing and erecting its crest and opening wide its beak as it let go a magnificent series of slow “phzzzzzeeer, phzzzeeeer pzzzzeeeer” Even as I was watching this Jay make this display, I still wanted to look toward the sky and see if a hawk was circling and assuming the Jay was issuing a warning.
As we looked around the yard from our vantage, there were no other visible birds anywhere around the usually busy feeder. We guessed the Jay had done a good job of warning its kin and the others usually vulnerable and open at this feeder station.
Then the Jay hopped up to the bird feeder and began hastily feasting on sunflower seeds.
After a few seconds and still thinking that there must be a Coopers circling somewhere nearby I decided to get a closer look. I moved toward the open door and the Jay saw me. It flew off. In made a beeline for the tree line. It landed visibly in brush just near the pathway leading down to the old cabin. I went out on the porch to get a closer look. As I reached the porch, the jay issued forth a loud wet squeaky gate call. Just one quick call. And then from beneath me, from beneath the cover of the and bushy and old flowers along the now snowless walkway and from under the porch, erupted a whole lot of birds.
Several dozen birds. At least -four cardinals, a bunch of chickadees and juncos and several tree sparrows. They, just seconds before hidden, all scrambled for the safety of the nearby woods.
I continued to search the sky and the tree line for what I still thought might be a hawk. Guess what? No hawk. I am convinced that the Jay scattered the other birds away from the feeder with its imitating hawk call, and then took advantage of a more peaceful meal. Until that is I cam out to upset its meal plan.
About a half an hour later there are about 50 birds on the front and back feeders, which is a fairly common convocation of the avian population around here.
There are of course ongoing great cultural, scientific, and ornithological arguments as to what all of the activities, sounds, and the socializations mean. It is a beautiful time to be alive as dedicated scientists engage in the discovery of the meanings of these things. Someday we may have a better understanding of how these precious animals think and why they do what they do. No only which sounds are warnings, love songs, which sounds relate to finding food, and which are just social chit chats may lead us to a better understanding of how these animals think, and, what they think. These are all extraordinary possibilities, discoveries as we humans get serious about learning language. Many cultures have long known and practiced listening to nature. It is important that we all realize that animals like the remarkable Blue-jay these talk, and it is high time that more people learn that they talk to us.
