The lesser goldfinches haven’t been coming around the feeders the past few days. Unlike their American cousins, they’re permanent residents here and gold year round, but this time of year they abandon the feeders. I suppose it’s because the weeds are all going to seed and that wild food must taste pretty good to them. Better than what’s in my feeder anyway.
The goldfinch feeders are up on the porch so it seems especially quiet without them. That’s funny since they’re not noisy birds, but I get so used to them most of the year that when I come out on the porch now it seems odd—like a town that’s too quiet in a horror movie—when they don’t all flutter off at the site of the dogs and me coming through the back door. I miss that confusion of black and yellow that blows outward like a visible gust of wind toward the neighbor’s trees.
They’ll be back in a few weeks, though, but there will be fewer than there were last summer when they came with all their young in tow, and they’ll soon be joined by overwintering American goldfinches, though their gold will have fallen out allowing them to migrate incognito, disguised as plain drab birds, their gold just a memory, a vague dream of summer.
James Brush is a teacher and writer who lives in Austin, TX. He tries to get outside as much as possible.
what a lovely post about a lovely bird, so different looking than our goldfinches (who are also lovely looking!)
Thanks, Juliet. I’m really looking forward to their coming back. They’re such… peaceful seeming birds to have around.
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