Worries about winter diminish by the day: my week as a jay

This time of the year is all about planning for the future: and if you think that’s beyond the wit of a mere bird you underestimate us.

Monday

My wife and I are very happy right now. So many acorns! This is a mast year: a bumper crop and our annual worries about winter are diminishing by the day. So today we went scrumping for acorns: we’ll be hard at it for the next few weeks. Some we eat, obviously, but most of them we save for later.

Tuesday

I can do a pretty convincing blackcap imitation when I’m in the mood, but for daily purpose it’s a screech. It sounds like someone ripping a cloth, magnified 10,000 times. On acorn-hunting days it means: “I’m here, where are you, beloved?” Her answering screech means that all’s well in my life.

Wednesday

I can carry half a dozen acorns in my crop – personal best is nine – plus another couple in my beak. And when we’ve gathered what we want, we fly off. I shan’t tell you where. Work it out for yourself if you’re so smart. Because we cache them. Mostly we bury them in the ground. We don’t stick ’em in any old where: I carry a map in my head and as winter finds its stride, we, almost alone among birds, will know – know precisely – where our next meal is coming from. We may not get round to eating them all, and the odd one will sprout and in a century or so become a decent-sized tree. Do you know who made possible the spread of oak trees in Britain after the last ice age? Our ancestors.

Thursday

I came across a beetle larva in the course of my research today. Beautiful. Fat, rich and tasty. And do you know what I did with it? I gave it to my wife. I do so because I happen to know she’s very fond of these larvae and hasn’t had one for ages. I offered it to her. She ignored me, but that’s just her way. I offered again, because she likes that. And of course this time she accepted. Opened her beak and I popped it in.

Friday

We raided a garden today. Some random human had put a great deal of food on a small table and it had attracted a whole bunch of small and rather irritating birds. So, exchanging a glance with my wife, I did my celebrated buzzard imitation. You really can’t tell it from the real thing. Cleared the place at a stroke. We dropped in, helped ourselves to whatever we fancied and then flew off. Rather smugly, I’m afraid.

Saturday

It’s hard work at this time of year, but it’s a labour shared. Winter is almost under control already and it’s only October. It looks as if we’re going to make it. Together.

Jay CV

Lifespan four to five years

Eating habits whatever the season brings, whatever we’ve planned

Hobbies hiding, seeking

Sexual preferences her outdoors

Photograph by Alamy