I read somewhere there are about 300 species of birds that live in or visit Maine and at least 200 are year-round residents. Over the years we’ve managed to see quite a few of them.
On a table in our living room we keep a copy of Peterson’s Field Guide to Eastern Birds. On the inside of the back cover and facing page is a running list of birds we’ve seen since moving into our house in 2000. I counted 57 the other day. I wouldn’t be surprised if the actual number is higher.
But whatever the number, one bird missing from the list is the Canada jay, also known as the gray jay, camp robber, whiskey jack or gorby.
Personally I like the name gray jay. It matches the bird’s plumage quite well. But the name Canada jay was used first way back in 1760, and the largest breeding populations are found north of the border. I can understand the change.
Whatever the name, Canada jays aren’t on the list in the back of our Peterson’s field guide and I don’t expect they ever will be. We live too far south.
Here in Maine the odds are better of winning the lottery than seeing one south of Bangor, except perhaps in the western mountains and some Downeast areas where they range a little deeper into the state.
But that’s okay.
We don’t mind traveling to the Allagash, Baxter State Park or the Deboullie area and other wild places where Canada jays live and where there’s a good chance they’ll visit our camp or show up while we take a break streamside, especially when food is involved.
As much as we enjoy our outdoor activities in the northern half of the state, the hope of seeing Canada jays is a big reason we go each year. To me and my family, Canada jays are as much a part of the North Woods experience as loons or any other wild creature that lives there. Without them it wouldn’t be quite the same.
Like countless other Mainers who have visited those places, we have a relationship with these birds that goes back decades.
My first memory of them took place on Moxie Pond when I was about 8 or 10 years old. My dad had a lot on the east side near Mosquito Narrows where we went camping and fishing on weekends. On one of my first visits I was sitting near the water eating a sandwich when a gray bird I had never seen before landed on a log beside me.
At first I didn’t know what to think or what to do. I had never been that close to a wild bird before. When I offered a piece of bread it bounced forward without hesitation and took it.
I was amazed.
And I’ve been amazed by their boldness ever since.
Years later I remember my 10-year-old sister hand feeding jays while we visited fishing camps south of Jackman. I also recall a jay visiting my stand on my first bear hunt. It boldly landed on the safety rail in front of me and looked at me with its big beady eyes. When it realized I didn’t have any food or a handout it flew off, no doubt disappointed.
Since those early days I have encountered Canada jays on numerous occasions here in Maine and elsewhere. They were literal pests around camp on the Broadback River in northern Quebec when we were fly fishing for brook trout. Whenever I stepped outside with food they appeared out of nowhere and demanded a share, refusing to leave until they got it.
Canada jays were also common visitors during shore lunches in Labrador and on my northern Quebec caribou hunts before those hunts were shut down. It didn’t take long for jays to find us and start scavenging scraps left behind during field dressing.
Our native guides routinely tossed pieces of meat or fat their way, saying it brought good luck.
I never knew whether it had some spiritual meaning or whether they simply enjoyed seeing the birds around camp as much as I did. Either way, the birds’ comings and goings were entertaining and helped make the experience memorable.
They always do.
I really don’t know why I like Canada jays as much as I do. Perhaps it’s because I have so many memories of them going back to when I was a kid. Maybe it’s their friendliness and bold behavior, something rarely seen among wild birds.
To see something that wild be so friendly and forward is refreshing, especially when they show up in camp looking for a handout.
All I know is anyone who has visited the North Woods of Maine to camp, hike, hunt or fish but has never had a Canada jay appear looking for food hasn’t quite experienced the North Woods.
I’ve heard people say Canada jays are intelligent. I don’t know how you measure that in birds and it really doesn’t matter one way or the other. But they do seem to possess something different that sets them apart from other birds living in our wildest places.
I haven’t quite put my finger on it and may never do so.
All I know is when I’m in the North Woods I enjoy seeing Canada jays around camp as much now as I did when I was a kid.
It’s good to know some things never change.