I went out Tuesday to get the leaf pictures I promised Sixty Grit. Right in the middle of the street was what I'm pretty sure was a baby blue jay, flopping around and squawking. I couldn't tell whether he had an injured leg or wing, or just couldn't fly yet. I picked him up and put him in the undergrowth below one of our trees.
When I turned around I saw that he had a sibling who had been sitting on a recycling bin and watching us the whole time. This one could fly, though reluctantly and clumsily. He was still there when I came back from my walk in the little park.
I went out later to check up, and found one perched on a low branch of that same tree.
I hope it was the one I found in the street, as that might mean both of them are OK. I wonder why the parents weren't around; I should have been getting divebombed, or at least screamed at. Maybe they figured it was time the little nuisances got a job and a place to live, and kicked them out.
Oh yeah, almost forgot: here's some leaves from the trees I've been assuming are beeches. (In fact, I wouldn't know a beech tree from a beach umbrella.)