To Kill A Blue Jay

My woods are filled with Blue Jays this morning, their screeching fills its every depth until the forest seems alive more to discord than harmony.  It is hard to imagine a forest filled with discord, like those that have been torched by wildfire or shattered like crystal by a tornado.  Those and Blue Jays always seem to me to be one and the same.  It is like The United States of America.  Here is an example.  I, like many of you, saw the gang tearing down the bronze statue of someone and dancing to the music in their head.  I wondered to myself what type of sculpture they were going to make to take its place or were their destructive impulses all they had.  It would serve us better if we were to fill our country with new works of art, new sculptures that declared to our posterity, “This is our better self because we were here!”  I know the beauty of the Mocking Bird’s song because I have often heard the Blue Jay screech.  There is a certain harmony of life in listening for the Mocking Bird not in killing all the Blue Jays.