Borpington is my least favorite chicken. She's loud, abusive, actively tries to break her own neck using your legs, and went broody before she was even a year old. She and Prooster are tied for last in pecking order.
Also, she pecked me in the gums once while I was talking to another chicken. Who does that? A psychopath does, that's who.
The saying isn't true...once you go gray, you DO come back. Once known as the Gray Jay, this charismatic character is once again known as the Canada Jay (Perisoreus canadensis). It is a bird of the north, with its range dipping down I to the U.S. only in select spots, like an old man dipping his toe into a hot bath. So perhaps the name, Canada Jay, suits it just fine.
These Jays cache loads of food for their harsh, northern winters. Up in Canada, they are stowing away food like mad, secreting it away in tree nooks and stone crannies while no one else is looking. Mostly, they are cautious to store it above eventual snow lines. And they secure their feasts-for-later with a sticky saliva that serves as glue.
Canon 5D IV, 400 ƒ/4 DO IS II, 1.4x TC III
560mm, ƒ/5.6, 1/320 sec, ISO 1250
One of my favorite evening activites is to run around the kitchen table and attempt to steal food from my families dinner plates....my mom got smart and gave me my own plate! I lasted all of 25 seconds before I was bored and went back to their plates!