SCOTT SHALAWAY Taking a gander at the dandy blue jay

My dictionary defines a dandy as one who "gives exaggerated attention to dress." In my mind, the definition also includes an element of self-aggrandizement.
As I watch my back yard from day to day, several birds stand out as potential dandies. The obvious choice is the male cardinal, but he lacks the attitude. Chickadees, on the other hand, walk the walk, but lack a true dandy's showy appearance.
The bird that combines dapper looks with an arrogant attitude is the blue jay. During the fall and winter, they roam in small flocks (maybe "gangs" would be a better term), announcing their arrival at feeders with loud cries of "Jay! Jay!" Unwilling to compete with the large brash jays, smaller birds disappear into the woods and the jays feed in peace.
On the rare occasion that another bird lingers near the feeder, one jay in the flock may mimic the cry of a red-shouldered hawk. Standing up to a blue jay is one thing; tempting a bird-eating hawk is quite another. The challenger departs posthaste. The jay's ruse succeeds and the flock dines in peace.
They'll stay for peanuts
Jays rarely stay very long. They usually take some sunflower seeds from a tray feeder and then move on, unless it's a nutty day. As my budget permits, I buy peanuts for the jays. They love 'em. As long as there are peanuts in the feeder, the jays keep coming. They cram them into expandable throat pouches, much like a chipmunk fills its cheek pouches. And like chipmunks, blue jays cache their prizes for later use. Only when the peanut feeder is empty does the parade of jays end.
Because a blue jay's table manners fall short of most birdwatchers' standards, some folks hold them in low regard. Few defend these loud, gluttonous bullies. But no back yard visitor is more striking than a blue jay.
A full foot long, from the tip of the bill to the tip of the tail, blue jays are one of the largest birds that visit bird feeders. Males and females are identical -- bright-blue body, crested head and a black necklace separates the white throat and belly. The blue wings and tail are marked with white spots and black bars. Dandy, indeed!.
Curiously, the blue jay's most striking feature, its color, is an illusion. Examined under a backlighted microscope, blue jay feathers, like the feathers of most other blue birds, are dark and colorless. Unlike most colors we see on birds, which are caused by chemical pigments in the skin and feathers, blue-jay blue is a "structural color." It is caused by the reflection of the blue wavelengths of light that strike the tiniest barbs of the feathers. Thus, blue jay feathers appear blue.
Recognizable voices
But blue jays need not be seen to be recognized. They are as loud in voice as they are in appearance. "Jay!" is their most recognizable call, but their repertoire of sounds is impressive. They can expertly mimic the screams of hawks and the calls of many other song birds. My favorite blue jay sound is a hornlike "Queedle! queedle!"
In May and June, blue-jay aggression takes an even darker turn. When most other back yard and woodland birds are incubating eggs or brooding chicks, blue jays rob nests. Like their cousin, the crow, blue jays eat eggs and nestlings of smaller birds.
On the other hand, blue jays also provide a valuable service to their feathered neighbors. Owls eat birds, so smaller birds like to keep track of the whereabouts of local owls. Jays mob owls they find roosting peacefully in the woods. Their alarm calls alert other birds such as titmice, chickadees, cardinals and nuthatches, who then join in mobbing the owl.
The message mobbing seems to send to the owl is, "We've seen you. You can't surprise us, so go away and leave us alone." Even an owl can take only so much abuse and eventually it departs in search of a more secluded perch.
It seems strange that some animals can be both friend and foe, protector and bully, depending on the circumstances. But in our own back yards, dandy blue jays are one such bird.
sshalaway@aol.com