I was afraid I wouldn’t see him.  Or find him dead at the base of the tree where I discovered his siblings.  But then I spotted movement.  He was hopping around in the far back corner of the yard, squeaking occasionally.  Still alive.

 

Several weeks ago I spotted the Blue Jay nest near the top of one of our live oaks.  In all the years of watching blue jays in birdbath and at feeder, I’d never seen a nest.  Daily I watched the dad come for a drink and a bath, then carry food to the mom on the nest.  I began seeing both parents come so I knew the fledglings had hatched.

 

Yesterday I opened the door to the back yard and saw movement on the edge of the porch.  A baby jay had fallen – or been pushed – out of the nest and ended up on the porch.  He managed to hop-fly to the ground, then to the farthest back corner of the yard.  Quietly I inched my way close.  Seeming to gather strength, he hopped up on the low cross rail of the fence, and scooted to the small opening in the corner where he disappeared.  I saw his parents fly down, landing behind the fence out of view.

 

Then the worst.  Walking back to the house I noticed two baby jays lying at the base of the tree, dead for a day or two.  Performed the unpleasant task of removing their lifeless little bodies.

 

Their death saddened me.  Beautiful bright blue promise turned to dull dark mass where bugs and worms had begun to feast.  I knew the culprit – the squirrel that Big Daddy Jay had been fending off the nest for days.  These Westlake squirrels are ruthless, aggressive, destructive.  Maybe the same one who destroyed some attic wiring years ago, ate my lace curtains on the upper porch, chewed through a patio cushion, and boldly trotted across the railing when I was 2 feet away.  It took me years to find the perfect squirrel-proof bird feeder, but they still hogged most of the birdseed in the dove’s flat tray and helped themselves to a drink at the birdbath regularly.  I don’t even aim at them with my BB gun anymore – if I manage to tag one it will just look back at me as if to say, “Seriously??”  Cute as they are, I am no fan.  We are sworn enemies.

 

Today baby jay was more active.  Now at a different corner, he hopped around and tried his abbreviated wings, making it several inches off the ground.  If he could stay alive I felt sure he would be a survivor.  I marveled as Mrs. Jay swooped down and fed him beak to beak.  Quickly she flew back up, on the hunt again.  Google assured me that the parents would take care of a fledgling out of the nest as long as they weren’t too injured to fully develop.  So I prayed that the little guy would make it, escape the predators and grow stronger until he could fly.  Maybe just maybe I would get to see him fly solo.

 

After the 3^rd day of baby jay’s grounding, the Jays left the back yard.  I saw the parents out front.  No sign of baby Jay, but no sign of his demise either.  I choose to believe he got his wings, able to make it on his own.

 

Two of my grands graduate High School this year.  They too will be flying solo in new environments with pitfalls and predators, hopping around until they can get steady on their feet.  They too will need the protection and guidance of their Creator.  I pray He will grant it in abundance.