Entry 5 : Blue Jays

November 27, 2025

I have felt so incredibly drawn to blue jays recently. I was on a trail run recently at one of my favorite lakes near my home. While running, I disturbed a gathering of jays, a dozen scattered, flying from the forest floor to evergreen and oak branches overhead. Most remained close, watching me carefully and chattering among each other. I was so mesmerized by their conversation, the blue and white of their feathers, and the way they danced in the branches that I stopped to just sit in total awe of the wild world around me… a world that we so easily miss.

As I laid on the ground under the trees, the branches came alive. As I wondered about the birds overhead, I wondered if they were up there wondering about me. How divine that we get to live in a world with blue jays.

As I began to explore the long history of humans and blue jays, I found how blue jays have been intimately connected to the human experience- symbolizing play, trickery, good luck, change for the better, and encouragement for the future, just to name a few. I long for a world where we feel collective awe for the wild things again. I long for a world where we search for meaning in the sight of blue jay because that interaction took our breath away and filled us with hope, or play, or courage.

I am writing this on the day that has been customary to celebrate Thanksgiving. My heart feels burdened for the way racism, oppression, and colonization continues to do so much harm. My heart is missing my friends and family I wish I could be close to on days like today. My heart feels empathy for all that are grieving today, all that are triggered by today, and all that are missing out on gatherings to protect themselves.

After a morning spent making homemade cinnamon rolls, I threw on a sweatshirt and went for a run. And the first bird I found was a blue jay. How comforting. I cling to the symbolism of change for the better and I send this magic to all who will receive it.

My hope for you today is that something magical catches your eye . Hold onto hope. Stand up for what is right. Make space for rest.

I’ll end with a poem by Mary Oliver.


A Letter from Home by Mary Oliver

She sends me news of blue jays, frost,
Of stars and now the harvest moon
That rides above the stricken hills.
Lightly, she speaks of cold, of pain,
And lists what is already lost.
Here where my life seems hard and slow,
I read of glowing melons piled
Beside the door, and baskets filled
With fennel, rosemary and dill,
While all she could not gather in
Or hid in leaves, grow black and falls.
Here where my life seems hard and strange,
I read her wild excitement when
Stars climb, frost comes, and blue jays sing.
The broken year will make no change
Upon her wise and whirling heart; -
She knows how people always plan
To live their lives, and never do.
She will not tell me if she cries.

I touch the crosses by her name;
I fold the pages as I rise,
And tip the envelope, from which
Drift scraps of borage, woodbine, rue.