A Party of Pinyon Jays

I wake to dozens of dusty blue pinyon jays laughing nasally

at the feeder hanging on the piñon outside our bedroom window.

They decimate the suet brick in minutes—neither they nor I know

they are going extinct—peck with great lust, share the small feast.

Two orange headed, yellow breasted, black winged western tanagers 

hang back, do without—neither they nor I know they are abundant—

lick remaining grease from the empty basket when the jays go.

I notice I prefer their sunny timidity to the greedy racket of blue. 

On a nearby limb, a magpie watches me mount the stool. Takes off 

to tell its mate. I refill the basket. Wait. Each bird plans a coup.

Muted tanager approaches the feed. Giant magpie drops. She flees. 

I clap. All clear till her return. She nibbles. Flits off. Nuthatch takes a turn.

Late morning, a single jay discovers the suet full again. Scout perched

on a tall piñon, he chortles and cries across miles of chaparral.

Come! Come! Come! Come!      Come! Come! Come! Come! They do.

A recent report on the threatened status of pinyon jays:

“Defenders of Wildlife Seeks Endangered Status for Pinyon Jay,” Albuquerque, NM, April 26, 2022