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Is there anything that says, “waking up in the Redwoods” more than having a Steller’s Jay hopping around on the ground beside your sleeping bag as you open your eyes in the morning?

Uh-uhn, I thought not.

And, yes, I know, I’m jumping around a bit. Yesterday it was the basalt river-canyons of central Oregon, and today, it’s Steller’s Jays in the Redwoods. However, I was editing some trip photos and couldn’t resist putting this one up for discussion. Twinges of nostalgia, I guess. Seems there’s nothing quite like opening your eyes, only to find that you’re being carefully studied by an inquisitive bird. He’s hopping around less than arm’s length away, trying to decide if that might be some edible morsel on the pillow beside your ear. Next, he gives your rolled up socks a good looking over, and maybe even a little tug because, doggonit if those little flecks of beige wool don’t look like they might be bread crumbs. After making a circuit of your sleeping bag, you see him moseying on over to check out your fellow traveler. There he is, hopping over to the pillow to peer at your friend’s face from bare inches away. What’s he looking for now? Is he checking to see if your friend is roadkill and fair pickins?

Yessir, the unmitigated gall of these birds is something to see. In the morning, they sneak over and under the picnic tables, through the campfires and — if you happen to be sleeping on the ground — carry out a reconnaissance mission around your sleeping bag. But when confronted, or when angered at not finding some manner of tasty tidbits, they shriek and fly off to the next site all in a great huff. And when you’re trying to cook your dinner — don’t look away from the food for a second. I made that mistake more than once, only to find that there was a Steller’s Jay ripping its way through a tough brown paper bag to get at some bakery bread within. I shoo it away, and a minute later, it’s snagged one end of a cheese wrapper and is set to carry its prize off into the bushes. Another night, one lands in the middle of the picnic table among the chopped vegetables I’m preparing, starting an avalanche of overturned bottles and cooking pots. You warn it to leave, and it just flaps to the nearest branch and cranes its head to glare down at you, all the while, working out the logistics of its next foray.

Steller’s Jay — wily denizen of the Redwood campgrounds.

Tags: Steller’s Jay, Cyanocitta stelleri, Redwoods