a charm of goldfinches

A small and quite charming chorus of singing, fluttering, tweeting, buzzing, scolding, whoop-it-up American Goldfinches appeared on the edge of the marsh this morning, zipping from one bare tree branch to another, diving down into the bushes and reeds, chasing one another around and showing off to each other and to the world their newly acquired gold=and-black goldfinch plumages. There were perhaps only half a dozen birds (hard to count since they were constantly diving into the reeds or melting back into the woods) but with the majority in adult male finery, they were putting on a big show. Two of the company were either females or, more likely, first-year young still in juvenile plumage but quite bright nonetheless (no black cap).

Carduelis tristis breeds later than other birds and is always said to be non-territorial but there was no question that some of these birds were scrapping with some spectacular aerial dog fights. Despite all this, the chorus continued on as before, ignoring the pugilists who eventually rejoined the others as if nothing had happened. The whole balletic extravaganza kept moving along the front line of the woods facing the marsh with the choristers clumping up together or separating widely apart from treetop to marsh edge, always in time to their twittering, tweeting cascade of song.

If this is not about territory and not about mating, then what is it about? These early spring goldfinch ensembles -- I have seen it before in one form or another -- are clearly important events in goldfinch life but I have never seen or heard of any explanation. Perhaps there is something definitive buried in the ornithological literature somewhere. In the meantime, I would venture a guess that it has something to do with establishing a social hierarchy among males in a gregarious. not to say social, species.

Mixed in with the very yellow goldfinches was, of all things, a Yellow Warbler -- perhaps bedazzled by the flashing yellow all around. This was not only the first Yellow Warbler to appear on the place this year but also only the second warbler of any variety seen locally. The first was the Pine Warbler who, after two weeks of non-stop singing, suddenly went silent; either nesting is well in progress in the upper reaches of one of our Pitch Pines or he has left the premises in search of greener pine pastures.  

Eric Salzman