I SPENT A SUMMER IN COLLEGE venturing deep into lupine-strewn alpine bowls in Colorado’s Sawatch Range. As part of my duties as a hiking guide, I’d trek across the mountains alone, checking trails. During my lunch break, I’d sit on lawn chair-sized boulders overlooking the Eagle Valley. Most days, I was joined by a gray jay who alighted on a blue spruce branch like smoke from a struck match.
The first time appeared, the fluffy corvid crooned their unique “whisper song” from the canopy. It is a soft melody of clicks and mellow warbles, the sough of
