The wild canary, officially known as the goldfinch, has lived in my heart since early childhood. I have layers and layers of fond memories of these beauties flocking, dipping and diving to feast in our corn fields every autumn. In the summertime, while nesting, they were splendid residents in our meadows where they would perch and serenade us from atop the purple thistles that abounded there. Today, they adorn our bird feeders with their brilliant color in harmony with the cardinals, oriels and wrens. I love them all, but find the wild canary speaks ever so eloquently to the child that exists in us all.