By Connie Thompson I offer an early apology to any English teachers reading this, as I am liberal in my use of cliches'. With that in mind, I offer this poke of fun at our language from a bluejays' point of view... "My New Year's day began with a jumpstart as I was sitting in the catbird's seat when I heard a loud racket coming from the area of the human's backyard bird feeders. I left an empty nest and began to make my way over the top of the woods towards the backyard. I was still testing my wings but I had already found out that in order to eat like a bird I had to return to the backyard bird feeders like a swallow returns to Capistrano. It was a beautiful, clear sunny morning and I was happy as a lark to be alive. I was aware of the old idiom that birds of a feather flock together and I was about to prove it true as I headed towards the rest of the bluejay clan that I could hear good-naturedly bickering over the feeder spoils. "Sounds like a family party at the feeder. I need to get over there!" My momma always said that the early bird gets the worm but frankly, the robins could have those nasty old worms and all the work that goes along with digging them out. Give me a few simple seeds offered on a tray feeder any old day. Now I may be a bit of a birdbrain but I consider myself wise as an owl in the area of getting something to eat, even though I am just a spring chicken. I flew straight to the bird feeder, causing only a minor stir among my family as they jockeyed positions to allow me in. There was my poppa, proud as a peacock as he surveyed his whole brood all together. There was momma also, who could chatter like a magpie but you can be sure she knew how to maintain order in her family's pecking order. I took a few seeds tentatively at first until I remembered grandpa had told me that one swallow doesn't make a summer. I knew that I had to fatten up as much as I could to last through the chilly nights ahead. So chow down I did, adding 12 seeds to my throat pouch while I decided which cache to take it to. Suddenly in flew gramps himself. He landed on the tray with his feathers all aflutter and dived into the seeds with abandon. When his pouch was filled too, he gave me a nod and off we flew together. "Away we go!! HEY gramps, wait for me!!!" We climbed high and fast and in an instant I had a bird's-eye view of the whole neighborhood. The family had scattered at our quick departure but in a flash they were back at the food trough. I followed grandpa as he set out on a course straight for his favorite pigeonhole. We flew as the crow flies, taking no unneccessary detours and letting no obstacles deter us. We were there in a jiffy and I helped grandpa fill his hideaway cache with the contribution from my own pouch. As I glanced at grandpa I couldn't help but notice the advanced crow's feet around his eyes but I knew that he still was quite eagle-eyed. His reputation was that he was crazy as a jaybird, but hey - in our family that was considered a compliment. I consider myself a bit chicken-hearted at times but a little bird had once told me that that was what kept my senses sharp and my mind alert. Glancing at grandpa, he looked like the bluebird of happiness had just blessed him that day with his cheeky grin and his flashy colors. It was in that instant that I knew grandpa was truly free as a bird and that there was nothing that could hold him down. I vowed to be just like him as long as I could. I knew that what was good for the goose was also good for the gander and I was prepared to get a bit crazy myself. I knew that if I stuck with grandpa I could remain as 'two in the bush' and never would be a 'bird in the hand.'" "When I grow up ... I want to be just like grandpa!" Blue Jay Photos courtesy of Sandy Hoover All text copyright of Connie Thompson January 2003 To report any bird sightings or anecdotes, please call me evenings at 906-635-5336 or write to: 14488 S. Ridge Rd., Dafter, MI 49724