Bob Mount: Goldfinches doing just fine in Lee County

Most folks in these parts recognize goldfinches, a.k.a. wild canaries, when they see them, especially the males when they are adorned with their brilliant yellow breeding plumage.

During most years, and in most places hereabouts, goldfinches in breeding plumage are seen in greatest abundance during spring around bird feeders. Thistle seeds are preferred food but they are also attracted to black oil sunflower seeds.

Goldfinches overwinter in our area, but during winter are not as conspicuous because the males are not brightly colored. Two weeks ago I wrote about my observation that the birds are attracted to the seeds in the mature flower heads of a particular species of perennial wild sunflower, Helianthus angustifolius. I anticipate their arrival to begin feeding at my “natural bird-feeding station” in a week or so.

Lee County is near the southernmost limit of the breeding range of the goldfinch, according to my sources, but I have been unable to find a documented record of a goldfinch having nested in the county. The birds are late-season nesters, and I’ve had a sneaking suspicion that the ones feeding on my sunflowers are breeders and not just passers-through on their way to documented breeding areas farther north.

Recent evidence reinforces my suspicion, and to my satisfaction is confirmation that goldfinches breed in Lee County. The evidence is herewith provided.

Last Saturday, Janie and I attended a small get-together at the home in Asheton Park of Dr. Stanley Wilson and his lovely wife Barbara. Stan is a bird-watcher and has an elaborate birdfeeder attached to a tree about 50 feet from a sitting deck. Along with numerous house finches, several chickadees, tufted titmice, brown-headed nuthatches, and red-bellied woodpeckers, goldfinches were partaking of the seeds in the feeder.
Stan informed me that at least three pairs of goldfinches feed at his feeder all summer long, every summer. That’s proof enough for me that goldfinches breed in Lee County.

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As a youngster, I was fascinated by insects of various kinds, among which were cicadas, commonly called ‘locusts’ by most folks where I grew up, that is, if specimens, dead or alive, were in hand.

Cicadas ‘singing their songs,’ on the other hand, might be called ‘July flies,’ if they were calling in July or August, and if during a droughty period, such as we’re experiencing at present, ‘dry flies.’
In the woods around my house, it seems like there are not as many birds calling as there used to be. But the serenades provided by cicadas and other tree-dwelling insect songsters have not subsided. In a subsequent column, I will attempt to introduce some of the various insect singers to readers fortunate enough to hear their renditions.

Bob Mount is emeritus professor of zoology and entomology at Auburn University and writes a weekly column for the Opelika-Auburn News.