The steller’s jays are living up to their nickname in my backyard

Forgive me, please; for I have sinned!!

A couple of weeks ago, I was asked if steller’s jays were also called “camp robbers,” and I replied “No, Gray jays are the camp robbers.”

Bird experts claim the Gray jay is the true camp robber, while some mature old folks (local residents over 80 years old) claim that their families always called steller’s jays the robbers. So, now that I have repented, both species of jays will claim that nickname from me.

I have always loved watching steller’s jays, but my observations of them have always been a hit-and-miss game until about three weeks ago. During these few weeks, I have had at least one visit to my feeders every day and I have had up to three of them show up. They are real characters. They are chatter boxes with multi-lingual talents.

They can imitate other birds, animals and even the sound of screaming humans, whatever benefits them at the moment; or they can perch in an evergreen tree and remain silent for hours.

One day my feeders were covered with birds when one of them appeared to be hungry. From its perch in a fir tree, it sounded off the red-tailed hawk call and all the birds headed for cover. Chattering, it came out to eat its fill from the shelled sunflower feeder.

A memorable experience happened this week during a snow squall. A sharp-shinned hawk came in and harvested a house finch and ate it in one of the evergreens before going out to wait for another hapless bird. A jay apparently thought it had eaten enough, joined four or five black-capped chickadees, attacked and harassed the hawk until it headed for the Teton River bottoms. Twice in the attacks, the jay screamed like an injured child when the hawk came too close.

Steller’s jays are also known for their intelligence and memory. Often, when the feeders are full, they will spend much of their time taking multiple food items from the feeders and storing them in cracks in the surrounding trees or under loose bark or holes in the ground under bushes. While perched in a hidden area, they will watch the chickadees and nuthatches as they hide food and then they will go steal it with a quiet chuckle. They always know where their 72-hour kit is and they probably have a few weeks of food stored away. But if I let the peanut feed get empty, they start chattering at me. They know where the food comes from. If I leave the shed door open, they will help themselves!

These beautiful birds and their habits have a lot of rituals and philosophies written about them. To some, they are aggressive, mean and ornery birds while others see them as spiritual, enlightening or a symbol of divine energy. I accept them for their beauty, and I just wish that I could understand their language better. Sometimes they allow me within a few feet of them and other times they scold me from the top branches of the trees.

Their name is often misspelt as “stellar” instead of “steller’s.” Even though they are a stellar bird, they were named after a German scientist, Georg Steller, that accompanied the 1738 Bering Expedition, which explored the Bering Strait between Russia and Alaska. Steller recorded finding a jay with a “charcoal colored head with a bright blue body” on one of the Aleutian Islands and spent 10 hours studying it and its habits.

Even though I keep peanuts, sunflower seeds and suet cakes — the Steller’s jay’s favorite foods — they are still hunters and gathers. I catch them breaking open fir and spruce cones. Maybe that’s where they’re keeping their food supply in case I become lazy.

Hopefully they will stay around most of the winter for me to enjoy. Even though bird food is expensive, I will be keeping their feeders full.

Whether your family tradition classifies them as “camp robbers” or not, their habits of cleaning up people’s leftovers from camping and picnicking will continue as we run into them during our summer mountain activities.