Finch facts

Colors tend to be a confused issue in the bird world. Actually it’s in the bird-watcher world one finds the confusion. Birds don’t seem to have problems with the concept. Do you have any trouble telling the difference between yellow and gold? To me there is quite an obvious distinction between the two.

I have a parrot that goes by several common names – not my parrot in particular, but her species. Among pet bird fanciers her type is referred to as a blue-and-GOLD macaw. Ornithologists have standardized bird common names to the same level of holiness as scientific names and they call her type a blue-and-YELLOW macaw.

Granted blue-and-gold sounds more exotic, especially for what has become the archetype of a pirate’s bird. But my macaw is the brightest yellow you could ever hope to see. There’s nothing gold about her.

And so it is with the American goldfinch. This bird – at least the male of this bird in summer – is the most beautiful yellow you could imagine. But I don’t see gold on it anywhere. And gold is not a descriptor used in any of the field guides.

Yellow shouldn’t be a downer for a name. The yellow warbler is very successful, as is the yellow-rumped warbler. There’s also a yellow-throated warbler, a common yellowthroat, and a yellow-breasted chat, just among the warbler group. None of their reputations seem to have suffered in their naming.

The golden-winged warbler and the golden-cheeked warbler each have colors identical to the above-mentioned yellow-types. Even the two royally crowned birds, the golden-crowned warbler and the golden-crowned kinglet, where you really would want gold coloration, have yellow, as clearly as yellow can be described, on their heads.

My grandfather solved the whole problem of yellow vs. gold by simply calling this finch what a lot of other old-timers have, the wild canary. “Wild” canary was to differentiate it from the domesticated common canary. After all, what is the common canary anyway? It’s actually a finch, too, from some western African islands – including the Canary Islands, of all places.

The summer male American goldfinch is painted similarly to a canary, and it has a voice similar to a canary. So why not? Many of what I thought to be Grandpa’s unique names for wildlife I have since discovered in the older guides. As times have changed, so have the names, and not necessarily for the better.

Because of its appeal, the American goldfinch has been chosen as the official bird of three states, including Washington state. There are two other goldfinches – neither of which is gold either, and neither of which is as yellow. And, neither is any state’s favorite. Lawrence’s goldfinch is mostly gray and is difficult to find in its extreme Southwest distribution, which gives Lawrence’s a strong appeal among those birders trying to see all North American species.

The lesser goldfinch obviously suffers by comparison to the American. It is smaller, and it has half the yellow. Its claim to fame is its recent movement into northern Idaho as far as the Moscow area. No doubt it will someday be a bird to watch for around Kootenai County, too.

There are also three goldfinchlike birds that escaped the naming confusion. The pine siskin can be relatively common around here, but goes through population cycles that seem to make is disappear for years at a time. It has a goldfinch body, but is the streaky brown you’d expect of a sparrow, and has only small amounts of yellow in its wings. Siskins are one of my favorite forest birds for reasons I’m really not sure of.

The other two goldfinches-that-are-not-gold lack yellow feathers, but do have tiny yellow beaks. These are the well-named redpolls. They are aptly named because “poll” is an archaic name for the head – or so claims the dictionary – and these birds have a conspicuous, well-defined red cap. Redpate would have been more accurate, but I guess that we’ve already decided that accuracy isn’t necessarily important in bird naming.

The common redpoll is not common here at all, but may be seen some winters mixed in American goldfinch flocks. Even more rare is the hoary redpoll, which for most birders around here would be a once-in-a-lifetime sighting. Both redpolls are extreme northern species that may occasionally use North Idaho for a tropical winter vacation.

All these birds are noisy, flocking species and are often discovered by their calls before the flock is even sighted. But even from a distance, a goldfinch flock is obvious. They have an undulating flight that appears quite chaotic. This may be due to their gorging on junk food – or that would be my guess. With each dip in flight, the birds call out “po-ta-to-chip.” Really. It says so in several major guides.

Actually, however, it is seeds that they crave. American goldfinches, siskins and redpolls, when around, are excellent winter feeder birds if their uniquely favorite diet is put out. They become finches gone wild – and I don’t mean that in the wild outdoors sense, but in the bizarre and crazy sense – for feeders stocked with thistle seeds.

In fact, goldfinches plan their whole lives around thistles, which is odd from the standpoint that thistles are a relatively recent weed-species introduction to North America. Thistles are, however, a member of the daisylike plant group called composites. These tend to be late summer blooming weeds that produce lots of seeds that stay attached to the plant until dried enough to go flying off as little parachutes. Dandelions are a more personal example.

Because of this preference for the composites, goldfinches are our latest-nesting birds of the summer. In fact, goldfinches are probably the only birds still laying eggs now. They often don’t start nest building until mid-July.

Sparrows, which have finchlike beaks specifically designed to crack seeds, turn to an almost completely insect-oriented diet when feeding their young. They have to in order to supply the protein needed for growth and development. Goldfinches, however, never use an insect-based diet. They get all the protein their young need from the late summer seeds.

This latest of the late-breeding behavior also allows for several other unique aspects of goldfinch family life. For mom, she finds plenty of late-season thistle down available when she builds her nest. This, along with her liberal use of spider and caterpillar webs, contributes to her ability to build the tightest woven of all nests.

In fact, if the nest gets exposed to the rain, it holds water well enough to form a swimming pool. Despite what your kids may think of hot summer dips, goldfinch young find them bothersome, to say the least. Lucky for them, it seldom rains in August.

Dad benefits, too. He has time for a fancy spring molt that gives him his great breeding plumage. Finches that nest early in the season cannot afford to waste energy on growing new feathers in the spring. They court and breed in the feathers they grew the fall before. Goldfinches have plenty of time, so they change out of their drab winter clothes into summer fashion. In October they molt again, again becoming less showy.

Thus, goldfinches are both sexually dimorphic, the sexes look different, and seasonally dimorphic. American goldfinches also show some geographic variation in their coloration with four different patterns of shading and brightness seen in different parts of the country. There are also size differences among the four groups.

There are lots of other finches that grace our various seasons. One of the really interesting aspects of this group is the number of either year-round or winter-only finches that we have. But none can remotely compare with our potato-chip-screaming, late-season breeding, fancy-feathered yellow and black goldfinch. It’s an American original.