Our goldfinches are starting to molt into alternate, or breeding, plumage. As we move into spring, the males forsake their drab olive-gray coloring for the bright yellow, black, and white feathers of their breeding plumage. Their bills lose the dull gray-blackness of winter for the bright orange of the mating season.
Goldfinches molt into their basic (non-breeding) plumage in the fall. The birds molt all of their feathers at this time, wings, tail (flight feathers), and body (contour) feathers. This can take about two months of gradual molt. The primaries and secondaries (wing feathers) molt from the center of the wing going both inward (secondaries) and outward (primaries) at the same time, one after another. The same is true of the tail, the molt starts with the center two tail feathers and proceeds outward. The birds can have a rather ragged appearance during September and October, some feathers missing, others just starting to grow in. In the end, the birds are a rather drab yellow-gray.
In the spring, February and March, the birds again molt, but this time it’s just the contour feathers, the wings and tail feathers will not be replaced again until the fall. But as I said, it’s a gradual process, the old feathers being pushed out by the new ones coming in. The birds would have a tough time of it if they lost all of their feathers at once, especially the flight feathers, the wing and tail feathers. How would they fly?
Some waterfowl renew all of their flight feathers at once, having the advantage of being able to float out on the water away from any would be predators, except for snapping turtles and eagles I suppose. But for most birds, loss of the ability to fly means loss of life.
The goldfinch in the above photo was left at the feeders while all the other birds took shelter at the report of a predator in the area. The bird was very still. It didn’t even bother to finish eating the seed it had in its bill. You can see the shell on the left side of the bird’s bill (the bird’s left side).
I got everyone moving again when, after a few minutes of watching this little goldfinch stand motionless (which can’t be easy for these little creatures), I got up out of my chair and sent away whatever it was that had originally spooked the birds. I never saw what scattered the birds, it may have been a false alarm for all I know. But whatever it might have been, my sudden activity apparently signaled the “all clear.” It was safe to move again.
Go little goldfinch, fly away, or at least finish eating.
Goldfinches are gentle birds, or so they seem to me. Sure, they bicker among themselves and the other birds while at the feeders, but of all the birds that I’ve had the privilege of handling, the goldfinch seemed the most gentle. When caught in a net goldfinches always seemed to simply lay there waiting to be picked up. And, they have a soft feel to them.
Unlike cardinals who would constantly struggle, bite you hardly, and never shut up the whole time while you went about measuring, weighing and banding them, or the blue jays screaming and pecking at your hands, the catbirds screeching and pooping all over you, the goldfinches resigned themselves to whatever it was you were going to do to them. Maybe that’s a fault, I don’t know, but I’d like to think of it as part of their gentle nature.
I think they’re underated, goldfinches, that is. They’re attractive birds with their yellow, black and white plumage, orange bill and short, bubble gum-colored legs. Even the female, which is not as brightly colored as the male, has an attractive “gentle” look to her. In flight too, a bouncing, dipping affair similar to that of a woodpecker, the birds attract attention to themsleves. As if the bright yellow plumage were not enough they usually call out with their so-called po-ta-to-chip or cha-CHE-cha-chip call while skipping across the countryside.
Feeder watchers, those that go through the extra trouble and expense of buying the special feeders and niger seed that the goldfinches prefer, truely appreciate the little birds. Most birders, hardcore birders, barely give the bird a glance, saving their admiration for the brightly colored Neotropic migrants like warblers, tanagers and the like. I even think the bird was stiffed in the naming process, its latin species name is tristis, which means sad or gloomy.
Take a break, stop by the feeders and give a few minutes to watching these little golden fringillids. Do they look sad or gloomy to you?
I didn’t think so.