It’s Poetry Friday!
Our friend Linda Mitchell
hosts our weekend round up.
She’s celebrating her OLW child.
Join us!
Steller’s Jays are ubiquitous where I live. They are beautiful, bossy, squawking, ecological servants of the High Sierras.
And I –accidentally– killed three nestlings this month.
Their parents chose to build their home on an aluminum ladder that hangs beneath my deck. No doubt, they believed it to be a safe spot, tucked away from possible predators. They did not count on the human kind — me, diligently going about my spring clean up.
The doting parents waited till the last possible moment to flee their nest. When I found the translucent babies, eyes still sealed shut, I tried my best to minimze their exposure to the chill. I checked daily for the next week. Mama and mate sat resolutely on the repositioned nest. Alas, a week later, when neither was present, I checked. The next was empty.
I am heartsick. I keep hoping the pair might try again. Occasionally, Steller’s Jays will make a second attempt. It’s early in the season still.
Meanwhile, I hear their plea…
Steller’s Jay Plea
I’m a keystone corvid,
a year-rounder
in the unceded conifer forest
you call yours–
leave me be
I’m a sapphire splash, tufted
flare in my tangled home,
camouflaged in canopies
you revere–
leave me be
to scavenge seeds
cached in needle debris–
hidden regeneration
long before…
long after… you–
leave me
photos and poem © Patricia J. Franz
Patricia Franz writes picture books and poetry. She believes children, dogs, and sourdough have a lot to teach us about life, joy, and wonder. She has raised two boys, four dogs, and holds a master’s degree in Theology with a focus on children’s spirituality. Patricia, her husband, her Bernese Mountain dog, Bonny, and her sourdough starter split their time between the Arizona desert and the Sierra Nevada mountains. 
Oh, what beauty and sadness all together in this poem, Patricia. I’m not sure why, but incidents like this can just undo me with tears. It’s always been that way for me. Your line, “leave me,” puts words to it. I hope the parent pair will lay another nest of eggs and enjoy some parenting this season.
Oh, I know that heartbreak. While I’m more familiar with bluebirds and tree swallows, it could be that if the nest was found empty, perhaps the hatchlings fledged. Especially if the parents returned to the repositioned nest. Not sure if you ever noticed feathered chicks, but I don’t think the parents would discard the dead. More likely they would just leave so there should have been something in the nest. Nevertheless, I love the voice in your poem. If any creature understands the perils of nature, it’s our feathered friends. Hopefully they’ll return for another round. Such beautiful birds!
Taking time to honor this loss shows a caring that many don’t have, Patricia! I’m sorry that it happened, and love the words you chose for them, “from” them.
Beautiful poem Patricia and love the last stanza…to scavenge seeds, cached in needle debris–
hidden regeneration, long before…long after… you–leave me. Argh, nature accidents that happen…Your heartfelt try is touching in a tough situation and reminds us of life’s fragility. I’m so glad you turned this situation into a poem:) xo
Sad to hear about the babies. Your poem was very touching; hopefully the parents will try again. Beautiful birds!