for some reason, blue jay feathers are as rare around here as dinosaur bones must be to archaeologists. i see blue jays glide across my back yard every day. i hear their dissonant voices in my trees all summer. yet i can’t seem to find more than the occasional odd tailfeather lying in the grass along one of my walks. but yesterday, my husband saw a flash of blue on the far shoulder, on the way home from a soccer practice, and, bless his heart, turned around to investigate. he showed up at the front door looking the same way archaeologist sue hendrickson must have looked when she discovered an 80 percent intact t. rex, skeleton sticking out of a cliff in the cheyenne river indian reservation. here was the elusive object of desire, impossibly complete.

northern blue jay wing

hodgson road, shoreview, minnesota