People are out of work. Companies have closed. And companies that haven’t closed have gotten smaller. But life in the woods is the same. Business has no business here.
I’m walking along and see a Blue Jay. This eastern jay is big, colorful and has a two-fisted attitude. But don’t call the hot-line. I’ve seen Blue Jays a thousand times. They’re common.
Wait a second. Not so fast.
Jays have been rare in the last few years. They’ve been out of work. Laid off. Let go. Retired. Fired. Downsized. Not by the economy, but by a mosquito with West Nile Virus.
West Nile: exotic words. They recall adventurous places and giant crocodiles. The word “virus” is not so interesting. It’s a word, and a thing, we could do without. Even my computer thinks so.
Blue Jays got hit hard by West Nile Virus. You’d walk the trails where Jays used to be, and there’d be no sign. Crows were decimated, too. And some people got sick.
The virus is old news now. And the dip it caused in bird population is old news, too. But the new news is that after a couple of years, Blue Jays, and Crows too, are showing up again.
In any downturn, there are natural immunities. And some individuals just take the hit and get through it. They find their way back.
I saw this Blue Jay today and thought about business. I didn’t want to bring thoughts of economics and unemployment into the uncivilized woods. But the parallel was noticeable.
The Blue Jay got downsized and disappeared. But now this tough bird’s back. And he’s not alone. Recovery happens.
Things will probably work out that way for the people I know who were let go, and for companies who are against the ropes. This stuff passes. Meantime, it’s spring and the woods are full of birds.
Hello from Union Square. I have enjoyed bird watching for many years. Probably because my birth name was Cynthia Hawk. Go figure. Here in my downtown New York nabe, we have more than one blue jay. Sometimes I refer to them as the Joe Pesci of birds. Noise and attitude! The one on our block is really a fearless little cuss, often sweeping up over our heads, lighting on one tree top, then another, going along 15th Street, all the while keening and squawking. Odd, I find it comforting. See, I kinda think that in a world where so much is going wrong, a bird with energy enough to be that obnoxious – well, you see my point? Whenever I hear him, and look up to see that shock of bright blue in the green leaves over my head, I smile and get on with my day!