October 5, 2025 – Our first full day continues…
After leaving our first grizzly — a magnificent brute elbow-deep in the earth, digging and tearing roots like a backhoe with fur — our focus shifted. Don had a landscape spot in mind where we could capture falling snow mirrored in still water. Adam nodded in agreement — always a good sign.
We pulled up and began our usual “investigation,” which is a polite way of saying we wandered around pretending to know what we were looking for. I had barely taken two steps when Don tapped my shoulder.
“Hey George,” he said, “I think that’s a Gray Jay in that tree. You might want to take his picture.”
My first thoughts? What’s a Gray Jay? And where?
I stared at the spruce like it was about to light up and announce its location: “Ladies and gentlemen, the bird you’re looking for is right here!” The falling snow made things even trickier — like trying to spot a snowflake in a snowstorm. Then — movement. Gotcha.
He was buried deep in the branches near the trunk, basically playing hide-and-seek at the expert level. A photo from there would’ve been an embarrassment — the kind birders discuss over coffee with a sigh.
“Poor guy,” they’d say. “Posted a bird butt. Rookie mistake.”
So, I waited. Because I refuse to be mocked — even by imaginary birders in my head.
Then — bada bing — he hopped from the shadows to the edge of the tree.
Bada boom. He flew to the end of a pine branch.
Click. Nailed it.
In 2018, the American Ornithological Society officially changed the bird’s name from Gray Jay to Canada Jay. Fitting, because this deceptively cute little bird is tougher than a hockey player in January. It thrives year-round in northern forests, raising chicks in the dead of winter. Curious, fearless, and always hungry, the Canada Jay is an omnivore that will eat just about anything — berries, bugs, small animals, or a raisin straight from your hand. During summer, it stashes food in trees to survive those long, frozen months.
With my feathered photo op complete, I moved toward the water and started playing in the snow like a kid who forgot he’s supposed to be an adult.
A reflection shot here, a crazy tree that had snapped in two, and the remnant of another that looked like the very bones of the tree — stripped, skeletal, and somehow still beautiful in the light and snow. You know, artsy stuff.
Even though it was only one o’clock, I figured we’d spend the rest of the day chasing landscapes. The wildlife show, I thought, was over.
Boy, was I mistaken.
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