In the late spring of 1952, a pair of Blue Jays built a nest in the black willow by the creek and raised a family of four nestlings. Bird nests and small boys are irresistible
to each other. One afternoon I gingerly climbed the willow to see the
babies. Mother and Daddy Blue Jay dived bombed me and knocked me out of the
tree. With all the commotions, one of the babies fell out too. We both hit the ground
at the same time. I couldn’t get back up to the nest to put him back so I put some
grass in a cardboard box and put him in.The parents continued to feed him during
the day and at night I brought him in the house and played with him until he fell
asleep. Knowing what I know now, I realize he “imprinted” on me and I became
part of his family. During the summer he grew into an adult and learned to fly. It
was fun to throw him gently in the air and watch him fly until he could fly up
into the willows and stay there all day. At night he would fly down to me and stay
in the house overnight. He would sit on my shoulder as I read or listened to the
radio. When he fell asleep he would tuck his head under his wing. When he woke
up he would stretch one wing at a time and yawn.
Dad made him a perch out of an old floor lamp and a beer tray. He was so mischievous and full of the Old Nick I named him Satan.
In the morning he would fly from the kitchen where his perch was into my bedroom and land on my head and peck me or pull my ear until I got up and let him out for the day.
He would play in the neighborhood until I got home. When I got off the bus at Brown’s Crossing Road he would fly from the top of the willows and land on my head and jump down to my shoulder.
As we walked home he tell me how glad he was to see me and how his
day was. If the day was rainy, he would spend it inside the house.
Unfortunately, he and my mother never got along although he loved my father (he
ignored my brother). He loved to pull clothes pins off the wash line and watch the
clothes drop. If mother washed bed sheets he just knew where his toilet was.
She used to chase him with a broom and he would dive bomb her.
Mamie, the raccoon, just knew that Satan was really meant to be her dessert and
was constantly trying to catch him. Satan, on the other hand, loved to tease her and
would pester her until she fell asleep. He would land near her and pull out a few
hairs. One night when I was sitting on the couch, Satan was on my shoulder and
Mamie was curled in my lap. Satan decided to fly down to the floor. He landed
on a throw rug that promptly flew out from beneath him and he fell on his back.
In a flash, the raccoon pounced on him. Mamie ended up with a mouthful of blue
tail feathers and Satan ended up with a short tail and his pride injured. After that,
Satan left Mamie alone. He stayed with me for three years. The Morning Call
came down and did a story about us (November 1, 1953 — Sunday Call
Chronicle).
That winter Satan caught pneumonia and God took him to brighten
up heaven. I cried over him for many days. He taught me a great deal about
love and responsibility. I learned that wild creatures really belong in the wild. It
is wrong to cage them or try to make pets out of them.
There is one more story about Satan. His perch was in the kitchen by the windows
and the table. When he was thirsty he would fly to the sink and sit on the faucet.
I would turn on the water and he would dip his bill in the stream of water. If I left
it on he would hop in the sink and wash himself. At supper time he would sit on
his perch next to Dad and hop on his shoulder and walk down to his plate. Of
course, Dad would feed him. Satan loved mashed potatoes, peas, and corn. One
Sunday we had mashed potatoes, gravy, peas, and pork. Dad also had a mug of
beer. Satan did his thing and then jumped on the beer mug. He proceeded to drink
his fill of beer. Before we realized it, he was drunk and fell into the gravy bowl.
He hopped out and left little birdie footprints all over Mother’s good linen tablecloth.
We washed him off, dried him, and let him sleep it off.
The Blue Jay Photo courtesy of Inge Curtis
I took a Child of Nature
and raised it for my own.
And by little acts of Kindness
seeds of Love were sown.
Those flashing Wings of azure blue
his wild and raucous sounds.
The worlds of sky and earth He knew
only by Love were bound.
Within His breast a wild Heart beat
unchained from worldly care.
Yet he loved a Boy, a selfish Boy
this Child of God so fair.
He gave to me his very being
his Love a precious thing.
Perched on my shoulder every night
a song of Life he’d sing.
Puffed up and vibrant He would fly
above my bed each morn.
And Tidings of a new day come
upon his Wings were born.
But now my Life is emptied
of this bit of little Bliss.
there is a dark and lonesome Void
left by Death’s cruel kiss.
He symbolized a link between
God’s natural world and mine.
But now to God I give Him
Oh Lord he’s wholly Thine.
His grave beneath the Willow lies
marked by the Laurel green.
A little bit of Life now stilled
Oh Death your aim unseen.
To be alone is not Life’s way
Through Love the World is made.
Yet for the gift of Life and Love
the Price of Death is paid.
Clyde Marsteller 1954
Photo courtesy of Bonnie Pancoast
One of the funniest events of my childhood occurred when I was about 16. I loved high school biology and had to prepare science fair project. I decided on a butterfly/moth collection. To make it as nice as I could, I decided to collect cocoons and chrysalises so that I would have perfect specimens when they hatched. I knew where there were cocoons of large moths (Polyphemus and Cecropia).
Cecropia Moth IMGKID.COM
Of course I managed to pick up a couple of Praying Mantis egg masses and some Golden Garden spider egg bags. I put them in a shoe box in the family closet. They stayed there all winter. One morning in March I woke up to hear my Mother screaming. Dad was in bed laughing so hard he was crying. Flopping around their heads were about half dozen huge Cecropia moths and on the walls and bed were hundreds of baby mantises and spiders. There was a Praying Mantis on Mother’s nose and she was looking cross-eyed at it as she screamed. Needless to say, I spent a couple of days with my Grandmother until things cooled down and the creatures disappeared.
clydeccedm 