Backyard Birds in Maine: A Year-Round Seasonal Identification Guide

Maine’s official state bird (designated 1927) is a 4.7–5.9-inch bundle of fearless energy. Look for the solid black cap and bib framing bright white cheeks, a soft gray back, and buffy flanks. Chickadees are the anchor of every Maine feeding station — first to find a new feeder, last to leave at dusk, and unfazed by -20°F nights. Listen for the clear two-note fee-bee whistle in spring and the scolding chick-a-dee-dee-dee that gives the bird its name.

A stocky 6.3–7.1-inch finch with a massive pale greenish bill; males are dusky gold with a bold yellow forehead band and flashing black-and-white wings. An irruptive winter finch of the North Woods, it pours into Maine feeding stations when Canadian spruce seed crops fail — a single flock can empty a platform feeder by noon. Look for it from November through March, some years in big numbers, some years not at all.

A large, tame 7.9–9.8-inch finch of the boreal forest: males washed in rose-red, females and young in gray with olive-russet heads, both with two white wing bars. Pine Grosbeaks drift into northern and central Maine in winter, crunching frozen crabapples and visiting sunflower feeders, often so confiding they feed at arm’s length. Numbers swing wildly between irruption years.

Smaller and bolder than its white-breasted cousin: 4.3–4.7 inches of blue-gray with rusty underparts and a crisp white eyebrow stripe under a black cap. A bird of Maine’s spruce-fir forest, it breeds in the North Woods and along the foggy coast, then irrupts south into feeding stations when cone crops fail. Its tin-horn yank-yank-yank announces winter flocks at suet cages.

A 4.7–6.3-inch finch that looks, in the famous phrase, like a sparrow dipped in raspberry juice — males washed rosy-red over the head, breast, and back; females boldly striped with a pale eyebrow. Purple Finches breed in Maine’s conifer and mixed forest and spill into feeders at forest edges, singing a long, flowing warble from treetops in spring. Some stay all winter, joined by Canadian birds.

Maine’s classic snowbird: a 5.5–6.3-inch sparrow with a slate-gray hood set cleanly against a white belly, plus white outer tail feathers that flash in flight. Slate-colored juncos breed in Maine’s northern and mountain forests, then winter flocks take over feeders statewide from October through April, hopping and double-scratching for millet on the ground below.

A plump 5.5-inch winter sparrow with a rusty cap, rusty eyeline, and plain gray breast marked by one small dark central spot; the bill is yellow below and dark above. Breeding on the Arctic tundra, it arrives in Maine with the first hard frosts of November and stays into April, visiting feeders in mixed flocks with juncos and singing sweet, jingling phrases on late-winter thaws.

The only hummingbird that breeds in Maine: 2.8–3.5 inches of emerald green, the male with an iridescent ruby-red gorget that flashes in sun. Arriving in early to mid-May after a Gulf crossing, it works bee balm, jewelweed, and feeders all summer, then slips south by late September. Change sugar water every few days in heat; a late-fall hummingbird in Maine is usually a rare western vagrant worth reporting.

A stunning 6.7–7.5-inch songbird: the male is flame-orange below with a black head and back and bold white wing bars; females are softer yellow-orange. Orioles reach southern and central Maine in the first week of May, whistling rich, flutelike phrases from tall elms and maples. Tempt them with orange halves and grape jelly right at arrival; by midsummer they switch to caterpillars, then depart by early September.

Maine’s familiar 7.9–11-inch thrush: gray above, brick-red below, with a yellow bill and white around the eye. The dawn cheerily-cheerup chorus is the soundtrack of the Maine spring, and males begin singing well before first light in April. Robins hunt worms by sight on mowed lawns, raise two or three broods in porch-light nests, and gather in big winter flocks wherever crabapples and mountain ash hold fruit.

A brilliant 9.8–11.8-inch crested jay in azure blue, white, and black, with a bold black necklace across the throat. Blue Jays are the alarm system of the Maine yard, screaming jay-jay at hawks and cats. They gulp whole peanuts and cache thousands of acorns each fall — a single jay can plant an oak woodlot. Northern breeders partially migrate, so Maine flocks shift year to year.

North America’s smallest woodpecker (5.5–6.7 inches) is a Maine backyard regular in every season. Black-and-white checkered wings, a clean white stripe down the back, and a tiny stubby bill separate it from the larger Hairy Woodpecker; males wear a small red patch on the nape. Downys drum on dead branches in spring and ride suet cages all winter, often traveling with mixed chickadee flocks.

A compact 5.1–5.5-inch climber with a blue-gray back, white face and breast, and a black cap. The only Maine bird that habitually walks headfirst down tree trunks, wedging seeds into bark crevices and hacking them open — the habit behind the name. Its nasal yank-yank carries through winter woods. Common at suet and sunflower feeders statewide in mature hardwood and mixed forest.

Breeding males are unmistakable: lemon-yellow body, jet-black cap and wings. In winter both sexes molt to a soft olive-drab — the drab birds at your January feeder are the same goldfinches. Strict seedeaters that breed late (July–August) when thistles go to seed, they adore Nyjer and line up at tube feeders in undulating, twittering flight. Resident statewide, though northern birds shift south in hard winters.

A plump, gentle 9.1–13.4-inch dove in soft gray-brown with a long pointed tail edged in white and dark cheek spots. Named for its mournful cooing, it whistles sharply on takeoff. Mourning Doves feed on the ground beneath feeders, vacuuming spilled millet and cracked corn, and nest early — sometimes on a February snowbank. Resident across southern and central Maine, spreading north.

The male is a 8.3–9.1-inch flame: all crimson with a tall crest and black mask; the female glows warm buff with red wings and crest. Once rare in Maine, cardinals have pushed steadily north and are now year-round residents of southern and central towns — a cheering red spark against January snow. They feed early and late, preferring sunflower and safflower close to thick cover.