A Bluejay's Idiom

March 1, 2012
Light shimmered, dusking the early morning dew with iridescence and loving curiosity. Filtering throughout the trees, the delicate rays drifted from maple to maple, seductively shivering across bark and lichen alike, highlighting the rise and fall of the pattern of forest life.

The black armor of a beetle, dappled gracefully, hung still for a moment, rainbows glittering on opal wings. And with a quick experimental flap, he dropped, miscalculating his sleepy travels with an unfortunate consequence. Finding his wings after a moment of terror, he was off again, slicing neatly and noisily through the golden air and almost an inch too close to the presence of a flamboyant blue jay, who was sluggishly preening her immaculate feathers.

Lucky for the beetle, she chose to ignore him. With a quick ruffling of feathers and a final huff, she settled down comfortably on her creamy belly, cocking her head carefully downward, black eyes focusing with fond weariness.

“Bygid!” Blue flashed once again, a flurry of near-neon feathers set against a brilliant jade background. The second jay hurtled through the branches, wings and feet careening in his ungainly pace, sending dust and lichen dreamily fluid in his wake.

“Bygid, Bygid! How are they??” Cadeyrn called, tucking his wings up in an ungainly fashion, nearly blinding his own mate in the process. Bygid ducked her crowned head out of his flight path, shuffling her own wings to hide her amusement. Bygid wasn’t accustomed to mockery in any way shape or form, (usual blue jay catcalls aside) but she discounted her own mate in much the way she did her chicks; loving disrespect.

“Oh, the little ones?” Bygid yawned, purposely suspending the moment just for the sake of it. When she had settled back down, she glanced smugly down at their rag-tag nest, bursting with ribbons, trinkets, moss, twigs, down, and, in the very center, the desiccated remains of three oblong speckled blue eggs. “I think they’re hungry.”

Cadeyrn nearly dropped the shredded letter in his beak. Eyes growing wild over the inky paper, he began to eagerly hop back in forth, foot to foot. “A-All o’ t-them?” He squawked and stuttered, elated rugged face peaked in exuberance. “They’re out-t??”

“Very much so. And as I said love, hungry.” With an inner calculated grin, she shuffled herself back, perching herself on the nest’s rim and revealing for the first time, the three fully formed, and very much hungry, shivering efforts of Bygid and Cadeyrn’s love. One of them, the smallest, twisted a long, wobbly neck and around and peeped in mild agitation. Cadeyrn crowed in delight, lowering his open mouth to the chick’s. After his stomach was empty and the chick’s was full, he stepped back, eyes glowing.

After a moment of silence, pregnant and busting with exuberant pride, Cadeyrn fluttered to wing again, throwing his brilliant head back and keening in delight, Bygid watching with loving, exhausted fondness all the while. Cadeyrn lowered his head again, gratefully nuzzling the featherless blob of pale flesh and beak. Miniature duplicates of his own dark eyes stared back greedily, obviously waiting for another round of dinner.

Cadeyrn cooed again, and emerged grinning.
“That’s only one out of three, love,” Bygid clacked, shuddering her delicate body again in another overwhelming yawn. Cadeyrn cocked his head, eyeing her silently for a moment, grin still growing.

“Get some sleep, beautiful,” he chuckled, cooing again. “Your work is done for the day. ‘Time for me to feed my family and be a father.”

And so, with no further argument necessary, Bygid settled herself into her nest and over her young again, laying a vibrant head to an ivory breast with a slight sigh of relief.

Cadeyrn watched his mate for a moment longer, then, turning reluctantly, dropped off their branch, turquoise wings flaring gracefully a foot from the teeming ground. Skimming the tall grasses, he zipped off, singing praise with his most jovial song yet, proud heart pounding out it's own rhythm.

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