California's official pajaro is a quail. They are large terrestrial game birds about half the size of a chicken. They are predominantly blue-grey in color with a head plume that curls forward. They remind me of little old ladies in dark suits with feathered hats. They waddle when they walk and their head feathers bob up and down.
The quail seem to spend most of the day hiding in the thicket in the yard North of Casa de Pajaro. Every time I set the sprinkler at the end of the big front lawn, the "ladies" come out to run through the sprinklers, search for worms and fallen seeds. As I approach, I notice them huddle together as if gossiping about me and then run off in a huff when I get too close.
Olive the cat is a bit leery of the quail, and they are definitely wary of her. Olive followed me down to the big lawn, but wouldn't get near the sprinkler. She waited by the driveway. When I startled the quail, they ran to the driveway near where Olive was in repose. The quail surprised Olive, who jumped and ran and the birds took flight to the cedar tree and I was left alone in the sprinkler.
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