lend me your eyes #104: on jays

plus, a film i loved, poems, walking and paneer

Nov 05, 2024

that time in 2020 when i got obsessed with the jay visiting my bird feeder

hello friends,

i’ve been seeing a lot of jays lately. it’s true that they’re especially busy at this time of year, burying acorns in preparation for the winter ahead. but still, each sighting feels special. somehow intentional. although they’re a common species, i rarely see them – despite living adjacent to woodland. tall, dense oaks full of crows, jackdaws, magpies, tits, woodpeckers, nuthatches, pigeons, parakeets, squirrels and at least one recently heard tawny owl. but seemingly never any jays.

last week, i saw the first one hopping about someone’s garden. i was on my way home from the gym which, in a cruel twist, involves an uphill trudge when already weary. i caught a flash of blue feathers and zoned in on the jay as it scouted the perfect hiding place for its acorn. a sweet sight to linger on, and a welcome respite mid-trudge.

five minutes later i saw two more outside my home. corvids of all sorts are amongst my favourite birds and the jay is a particularly good one, i think. the rspb says that a single jay can bury up to 5000 acorns in one season, which seems a bit insane. incredible work ethnic, i could never etc. of course, not all the acorns get unearthed so jays are partly responsible for planting some of our oak trees too.

the rspb also says they’re shy birds, rarely breaking cover – but over the past week, i’ve seen plenty more jays since those first few. it feels a bit like i’m going mad; i could have sworn i hadn’t seen any over the past year and yet here are so many spotted in quick succession. maybe i just haven’t had my eyes fully open until now.

the other day, i scrolled past an instagram post that said something like, “look for evidence that it’s going to be a lovely day because you choose to come alive and make it so”. i like that sentiment a lot. it’s a necessary reminder, especially as the number of daylight hours dwindles and it feels easier to become withdrawn and sad. as it turns out, catching sight of those electric blue feathers, seeing a jay’s inquisitive head tilt or hearing its shrieking call are all evidence, to me, that it’s going to be a lovely day.

things i’ve been reading lately

the enchanting archaeological romance of “la chimera”.

I LOVED THIS FILM SO MUCH. it’s quiet, thoughtful and melancholy, and i know it’s a film i will think about for a long time. i really loved this piercing line from a new yorker review:

“at the heart of ‘la chimera’ is the question of how we bear the weight of the past while living in the present, and the answer that rohrwacher settles on strikes me as both sensible and hopeful: we must, to the best that we can, eradicate any meaningful difference between the two.”

do animals know that they will die?

“we are death-obsessed animals, after all, and have been since the dawn of recorded history, if not before. our oldest work of epic literature tells the story of king gilgamesh and his struggle with mortality. “death is sitting in my bedroom, and wherever i turn, there too is death,” he says, before setting out in search of a plant that promises immortality. human cultures have devised richly symbolic rituals to precede death and to follow it.”

generate a “psychogeographical poem”.

this website generates a poem based on google maps directions from where you currently are to a random place nearby.

strolls with stops use more energy than continuous walks.

maybe you could use a poem from the website above for added intrigue on your walk? my poem, disconcertingly, ended with: “turn left. destination will be on the right… but at what cost?”

this week, make: paneer tikka.

much like jays, i have been seeing an above-average level of instances of paneer tikka lately, and this simply looks too good to ignore.