Jay Birds
This winter I was able to get out into the Santa Fe National Forest to try out a new super telephoto lens. I ventured into Black Canyon on the border of Hyde Memorial State Park which is known as a favorite spot among birders. Indeed, it offers great year-round birding opportunities. (FYI locals, the campground is closed in winter but the parking lot remains open for day hikes).
My first trip out, I was lucky enough to encounter a group of Clark’s nutcrackers and spent an afternoon enjoying the antics of this very social jay bird. When I returned home, I started researching these birds and found they are part of the highly intelligent Corvid family which includes ravens, magpies, and other jays. What I learned inspired me to get to know the other birds in this family that live in my area. I spent several cold but wonderful winter days getting to know them through my lens.
CLARK’S NUTCRACKER
Clark’s nutcracker in fir tree. Camera notes: Canon 1Dx Mark III, 800mm lens, f/5.6, 1/200, ISO 400
Many jay birds have an interdependent relationship with specific trees. Clark’s nutcrackers, some say, are the soulmate of the Whitebark Pine, although the relationship isn’t exactly equal. (FYI - I’ve heard folks here call the Clark’s nutcracker “gray jay”, but this species is not to be confused with the Canada jay which is also called “gray jay” and are less common in New Mexico). Both the Whitebark Pine and Clark’s nutcracker live at high elevation in the mountain west. The Whitebark Pine produces highly nutritious seeds for the Clark’s nutcracker. While the Clark’s nutcrackers eat seeds from other types of pines, the Whitebark pines are largely dependent on the birds for seed dispersal. The cones don’t open on their own and require the nutcracker to extract the seeds with its specialized beak. The birds cache hundreds of seeds flying several miles from the source tree, storing the seeds for food over the winter. Although they can remember where the great majority of their seeds are hidden, they do forget some and thus the pines benefit when these forgotten seeds subsequently germinate and establish in new areas.
Whitebark pines, an iconic species in the subalpine zone of the west, are in steep decline. The tree is impacted by pine beetle infestations, invasive fungus, changing fire regimes, and climate change. Clark’s nutcrackers will also seek other sources of food and leave an area when Whitebark pines are in low supply thus creating a feedback loop that is causing a dramatic decline of the Whitebark pine. Also, because Clark’s Nutcrackers live in fragile subalpine zones near the tops of mountains, according to All About Birds the excellent website from Cornell Labs, they are one of the species most vulnerable to climate change: as temperatures warm, habitat zones are likely to shift upward in elevation, reducing the amount of subalpine habitat available on mountaintops.
So far in New Mexico these birds are still thriving, as any skier flocked by these birds trying to get a piece of their lunch on the ski hill will likely report.
Black Canyon at an elevation of 8475’ is located just at the lower edge of the subalpine zone zone (9,000-12,000’). In my observations in several hours I spent photographing the Clark’s nutcrackers, they clearly prefer the fir trees. I watched them spend their time seeking seeds from cones in these trees and almost entirely avoiding the Ponderosa pines in the same area.
STELLAR’S JAY
Stellar’s Jay in a bare-branch aspen tree in Black Canyon. Camera notes: Canon 1Dx Mark III, 800mm lens, f/5.6, 1/2000, ISO 1000
Stellar’s jays on the other hand almost exclusively spent their time in Ponderosa and occasionally in bare-branch aspen trees. These striking looking birds are native to western North America and closely related to the blue jay found migrating through eastern New Mexico. It is the only crested jay west of the Rocky Mountains. In the interior of the country, they sport a white eyebrow and white streaks on their crest. Coastal populations of these birds have different coloring and markings. The birds are bold, intelligent, curious, and noisy. They are frequent visitors to picnic tables and campground and like other jays will take advantage of scraps two-legged animals leave behind.
Another local hotspots for these birds is the trailhead of the Chamisa Trail where they fly across the road and watch hikers from the tops of Ponderosa pines, their prefered location for their nests. They are a playful and social species as well as amazing flyers and gliders, moving quickly from one tree to the next in groups chasing insects, and seeking seeds and even small animals and eggs for their next meal.
The essence of bird. Stellar’s jays swooping between Ponderosa tree tops.
PINYON JAY
More than any other jay, the pinyon jay has captured my attention and interest in telling their story. These cobalt blue birds have an intimate relationship with the piñon pine trees. Like the piñon-juniper woodlands they inhabit, their numbers are in steep decline across the west. These vocal birds travel in flocks which historically numbered in the thousands but today its more common to see only a couple hundred flying together here in the Southwest on the southern edge of their range.
Like the Clark’s nutcrackers, they cache seeds, in this case from the piñon pines. Their long, needle like beaks lack feathers at the base (most other corvids have these feathers) which allows them to dig deep into a piñon pine cone and retrieve the seeds without getting sticky pitch all over their mouths. They store seeds for winter by carrying them, not one at time, but up to 40 in their expandable esophagus. They’ll fill up on seeds and fly to a cache site, their throats bulging with their hefty load. Also, like Clark’s nutcrackers, they are able to remember where they hide 90% of their seeds (imagine the field research it took to figure that out). It’s the 10% they forget about that enables the piñon pines to disperse their seeds and establish in new areas.
Unfortunately, some humans have determined that piñon-juniper woodlands have little economic value and thus for over a hundred years, private landowners, developers, and government agencies have been scraping the land of these forests with a chain method that clears many acres in short time. The unintended consequence of this has been the decline of food supply for pinyon jays, and in turn the decline of pinyon jay population, and in turn the decline of piñon trees in a feedback loop that has already resulted in the loss of 85% of the population across the West. If the current rate of decline continues, another 50% of their populations will disappear in the next 15 years. Like many species of concern, the climate is not changing in their favor either. As the west becomes hotter and dryer, the pinyon pines more susceptible to beetle infestations and other circumstances that cause mass die-offs.
This pinyon jay caught me trying to camouflage myself in the junipers to get close up pictures of his/hers (males and females look the same) buddies feeding habits. It immediately alerted the rest of the flock as to my presence with the “your-not-fooling-anyone-silly-photographer” call.
Camera notes: Canon 7D Mark II, 100-400mm lens with 1.4x extender.
Thankfully, other humans have noticed their decline and decided to do something about it. Santa Fe County started a program to reforest piñon trees in areas where pinyon jays colonies are known to nest. A pinyon jay working group made up of scientists across the west, are working with land managers to change management practices in piñon-juniper woodlands and preserve their habitat. Individuals can put up feeders as pinyon jays are known to eat suet, sunflower seeds, and cracked corn from feeders. As I live in piñon-juniper habitat in an area of town that is rapidly being developed, this year I plan to plant 10 piñon trees in my yard.
Next time you are out in piñon-juniper habitat (Santa Feans: the popular La Tierra Trails has dense PJ woodlands) listen for the distinct kaw-kaw-kaw of a traveling flock that can be heard up to a mile away. Or you might find them leap frogging over each other under trees as they forage for seeds. This time of year they will be busy securing mates, searching for nesting sites, and getting ready to care for their young. Keep your distance if you do find nesting birds, they are very sensitive to disturbance during this time.
Photos above: A pinyon jay takes flight and joins the flock of 130+ birds (on right) flying over PJ woodlands at the base of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains.
In the meantime, enjoy this short talk by John E. Ubelaker, Professor of Biological Sciences at University of New Mexico given for the Native Plant Society - Taos Chapter. While the part of the story where the female bird keeps the seed in her esophagus until her babies are born may not be true according to another biologist that studies this species, the story will sure to enchant you and open up some room in your heart for pinyon jays. They undoubtedly have found their way into mine.
