The 100 Greatest Bird Names of All Time
Making this list was the hardest thing I’ve ever done
I love bird names. And in a world with more than 11,000 kinds of birds, ornithologists have had to dig deep to come up with unique titles for each one. While literal descriptions have their place (I’m delighted every time someone asks me the name of that black bird with red wings), we’re fortunate that many, many others are surprising, bizarre, never-before-uttered sequences of words or sounds. And each bird’s name carries with it a bit of history. They’re a window into the ways people have made sense of a vast world’s diversity through folk knowledge and science. They show how we relate to the birds with whom we share the world.
A few weeks ago, I decided that it would be fun to rank the 100 greatest ones. My task was made easier by Wikipedia’s List of birds by common name, but narrowing down 11,000 names (this is a genuine curated list, I really did look through all of them) turned out to be way harder than I expected. There are FAR TOO MANY GOOD ONES. My short list alone had more than three hundred, and picking the top hundred nearly ended me. It was also so much fun! I considered myself something of a bird name connoisseur, but many of the top names were new to me and so strange and surprising that they left me speechless.
A few weeks ago, I shared the ranked list on Twitter and on Substack notes. If you’ll forgive a slight departure from the usual essays that make up my Substack posts, I’m going to share this list here as well.
But first, there have been a few fantastic pieces of Bird History by some writers on and off of Substack that deserve a mention.
James McCommons’s new book, The Feather Wars: And the Great Crusade to Save America’s Birds, is the first complete history of the fifty-year movement to transform birds from a natural resource into an indispensable piece of our national heritage. St. Martin’s Press sent me a review copy, which I’ve now crammed with highlights and annotations. It’s been a terrific resource as I work on my own book, and I’m deeply grateful to McCommons for bringing to life so many once-forgotten men and women to whom we owe our gratitude for protecting America’s birds. I can’t recommend the book highly enough. Get it here.
Kirk Gordon is in the middle of a terrific series on how the pink flamingo—both the lawn ornament and the ever-beleaguered bird—serve as a mirror to America’s culture, identity, and excesses. It’s been delightful and incisive so far, and there’s more to come. Read part 1 and part 2, and then subscribe to Unnatural Heritage so you don’t miss the rest.
For his Substack Charismatic Manyfauna , William von Herff wrote a great piece about how, just decades before the arrival of Columbus, the bird-loving Aztecs took Great-tailed Grackles from their original habitat in the coastal lowlands and introduced them to Tenochtitlan (today’s Mexico City). After reading his piece, I went back through my eBird checklists from a past trip and was really happy to see that I’d seen Great-tailed Grackles in Mexico City, the modern descendants of a pre-colonial species introduction.
And now, here’s the list:
#100: Chad Firefinch
This is no Virginia Rail. Cockiest bird in Central Africa.
#99: Screaming Cowbird
Outscreamed the Screaming Piha to squeak into the top 100.
#98: Happy Wren
Would have been just as content to be left off this list, you can’t ruin their day.
#97: Middle American Leaftosser
When US politicians try to appeal to voters in the heartland, this is who they’re thinking of. But this guy just wants to know what’s under the next leaf.
#96: Handsome Fruiteater
There are three other “handsome” birds (Handsome Spurfowl, Flycatcher, and Sunbird), but these gluttons need representation in the top 100.
#95: Sandwich Tern
Named after a town in England but also two slices of wonderbread, a slather of chunky PB, and a spoonful of raspberry jam
#94: Willie-wagtail
Birds with people names are one of the best sub-categories, and none wears theirs so explicitly as this guy. (Robin, Jackdaw, and Magpie are others, I wrote about them here):
#93: Splendid Fairywren
There are four other “splendids” (Splendid Astrapia, White-eye, Starling, and Sunbird). It’s a tight race between them, but there’s no more ethereal group than the fairywrens.
#92: Zigzag Heron
My vision’s getting blurry just looking at em
#91: Three-wattled Bellbird
There are 33 other birds named for their wattles, including the bizarre and somewhat obscene-looking Wattled Ploughbill, along with four Wattlebirds. But none of them have three.
#90: Weebill
Everything’s little about the smallest bird in Australia but its bill is littlest of all. Decently cute bird but impossibly cute name. How could I say no?
#89: Charming Hummingbird
Charismatic microfauna. Got its name because an ornithologist thought it looked nice, and I don’t disagree. The group noun for hummingbirds is supposedly a charm, although I agree with Nick Lund that these terms of venery are a joke.
#88: Bananaquit
Tiny nectar drinker from the tanager family, named for their banana-yellow color. The best of the ‘quits (Orangequit and grassquits) and the bananas (Bananal Antbird and Eastern / Western Plantain-eaters).
#87: Tiny Hawk
Not a pro skater, but a teeny tiny eentsy weentsy little killer bird. About as big as a starling. Still twice the size of the smallest raptor (the Black-thighed Falconet), but this one’s got a better name.
#86: Rose Robin
There are 100+ birds called robins, all named after a real or imagined and similarity to the European Robin. The nickname spread everywhere the English went, for better or worse. In this case, it’s perfect.
#85: Large Green-Pigeon
Largest of the Green-Pigeons, this hulking bird tells you exactly who it is. A pigeon that’s large and green. This sort of honesty is rare these days and should be recognized.
#84: Greater Roadrunner
Unclear where they ran before roads were invented. The only member of the cuckoo family to make this list. Fun fact: “cuckold” comes from some cuckoos’ practice of laying eggs in other birds’ nests. Not this guy, tho!
#83: Society Kingfisher
After reading Bowling Alone they decided they needed to get more involved in their community. Find them at the Society Islands Elks Club in French Polynesia.
#82: Mealy Amazon
A few hundred years ago someone thought that If you look really closely at this parrot’s back it looked like it was dusted with flour, or.. cornmeal. Not a great fieldmark but I love the name.
#81: Oleaginous Hemispingus
The Oilbird didn’t make the cut but one oily representative still did. The name of this chungus means oily half-finch, which itself would have been a winner.
#80: Cinderella Waxbill
293 birds are “grey”, 32 are “ashy”, and 16 are “cinereous,” which all could have worked for this bird, but some ornithologist with joy in their heart called it Cinderella.
#79: Belcher’s Gull
My apologies to the British explorer Sir Edward Belcher, after whom it’s named, but I can’t take this one seriously.
#78: Noisy Friarbird
Here’s what eBird says: “Typically very loud; emits a variety of harsh, loud squawks.” Noisy indeed. Like their name suggests, friarbirds are all going through various stages of hair loss; this one is entirely bald.
#77: Limpkin
Named for its supposedly funny walk, plus the suffix -kin (like pumpkin, napkin, munchkin), a Middle English diminutive meaning little. These little limpers snack on snails from Florida to Argentina.
#76: Resplendent Quetzal
I get excited about any bird name that’s kept its indigenous roots. In Nauhatl, its name is quetzaltototl, from quetzalli (tail-feather) + tototl (bird). The national bird of Guatemala. Resplendent doesn’t do it justice.
#75: Flightless Steamer-Duck
Patagonian chunk duck. Can’t fly, obviously, and mad about it - known to kill larger birds, using their bony wing nubs. Got its name from the way they flap their wings when they swim fast, looking like paddle steamers.
#74: Restless Flycatcher
Will not sit still. Also known as scissors grinder and dishlicker for its quick raspy call. What I’ve learned here is that Australia is way over-represented in quality names.
#73: Christmas Shearwater
First described on Kirimati, aka Christmas Island. Shearwater (for the way they skim ocean waves) pulls a lot of weight too, as does the fact that they’re in the order of tubenose birds
#72: Apostlebird
Roams Australia in groups of 12 (or 6, or 40, as the case may be). Apparently also goes by grey jumper, lousy Jack, and happy family.
#71: Gang-gang Cockatoo
Gang-gang is also of aboriginal origin, probably related to its call, which sounds like uncorking a wine bottle. Cockatoo comes from 16th century Dutch “kaketoe,” which they borrowed from Malay
#70: Chaco Chachalaca
Say this bird’s name out loud. You’re already happier than you were 8 seconds ago. Chachalaca comes from the Nahuatl word for “to chatter”. eBird transcribes their song as “bink, ka chee chaw raw taw.”
#69: Obscure Berrypecker
If you see a strange bird pecking your berries, and also happen to be in the Arfak Mountains of New Guinea, this could be your bird.
#68: Milky Stork
The pantone people and the bird people have a lot in common. Sometimes you’ve got to dig deep for the perfect word, and in this case the bird’s slightly cream-colored feathers meant milky was the way to go. Only about 2,000 are left in the wild :(
#67: Blue-footed Booby
A classic for a reason. Booby comes from the Spanish “bobo”, meaning stupid or foolish, for their clumsiness on land and undeserving trust of humans.
#66: Emu
Unclear where the name came from (possibly an Arabic word for large bird, via Portuguese?), but in rare company of three-letter bird names (Kea and Tui). There used to be a two-letter bird in Hawaii, the Ou, but it went extinct in 1989.
#65: Monotonous Lark
Larks are known for their beautiful songs, but this one comes up short. eBird says they “incessantly sing a croaking, gurgling, distinctive four-note song every 3-5 seconds for hours on end, day and night.”
#64: Greater Prairie-Chicken
Clearly better than the Lesser Prairie-Chicken (and the Chicken of the Sea, for that matter). From a larger family of gallinaceous, or chicken-like birds.
#63: Wandering Tattler
Narcing their way from Alaska to the South Pacific, sometimes migrating up to 3,000 miles, twice a year
#62: Common Loon
Another classic. And while common might work as an insult, this bird is anything but. Brits call it the Great Northern Diver. William Wood called it a Loon first in 1634, writing “The Loone is an ill shap’d thing like a Cormorant”.
#61: Bearded Mountaineer
Not a rugged climber, just a lil high-altitude Peruvian hummingbird. But look at that beard!
#60: Growling Riflebird
Its black velvety plumage supposedly resembles the uniform of the 19th century British Army Rifle Brigade. Plus, it growls.
#59: Dickcissel
They get their name from their song, which sounds something like “dick dick dick ciss ciss ciss.” eBird says its call is “flatulent.” These prairie birds migrate every year between the tropics and the Great Plains.
#58: Beijing Babbler
Sounds like something J. K. Rowling would name a magical beast. But the bird is very real and boasts an impressive vocabulary.
#57 Magnificent Frigatebird
Also called man o’ war birds. They hunt fish on the wing and sometimes steal from other birds, reminding sailors of warships. The magnificent comes from the males’ enormous inflatable red throat sacks.
#56 Killdeer
Named for its call. Has not yet been known to carry out its threat. Quite nice once you get to know them!
#55: Ancient Murrelet
A tiny species of auk. “Ancient” comes from its gray-streaked feathers that make it look elderly, but I think the name makes it sound mythical and wise, maybe legendary.
#54: Dollarbird
Named for the coin-shaped white spots under its wing that you can see when it’s flying. How long could I get away with saying dollarbird instead of dollar bill?
#53: Robust Woodpecker
A sturdy, strong, powerful, solid, hefty, burly, brawny, vigorous, hardy, resilient, durable, reliable, dependable, full-bodied, stalwart bird.
#52: Paddyfield Pipit
Another name that’s just a joy to say. Wikipedia calls its appearance “undistinguished” and “dumpy”. I think it’s lovely. Found in farmland from Pakistan to the Philippines.
#51: Secretarybird
Its leggy striding gait apparently reminded Dutch settlers in South Africa of an archer, so they gave it the name sagittarius, which survives in its scientific name, and was probably corrupted into secretarius and secretarybird. Another theory is that the plumes on the back of its head look like pens tucked behind an ear.
#50: Squacco Heron
Lots of birds are named after their call but none so persuasively as this one. If a bird squawks, shouldn’t it be called Squacco?
#49: Long-wattled Umbrellabird
One of the more bizarre birds out there. It’s called an umbrellabird for the tuft of feathers hanging over its forehead. And its wattle? It reaches from chin to toe.
#48: Rusty Whistler
Endemic to New Guinea, but sounds more like the name of a cowboy or, I don’t know, a character in Cars.
#47: Quailfinch Indigobird
This name is just four nouns mashed together and needs some unpacking. It’s a poorly-known type of Indigobird, and lays its eggs in the nests of the African Quailfinch. It’s only been logged 4 times on eBird and doesn’t have any photos, but looks basically like the Dusky Indigobird.
#46: Mouse-colored Penduline Tit
Don’t ask me what color “mouse-colored” is, but there are 5 other mouse-colored birds (not to mention titmice, mouse-warblers, and 6 kinds of mousebirds). From a family of tits that makes pendulous, hanging nests.
#45: Zitting Cisticola
Cisticolas (roughly meaning shrub-dwellers) all look about the same and are best told apart by their songs, which they’re named after. Runners up include: Chattering, Bubbling, Rattling, Tinkling, Wailing, Churring, Croaking, Siffling, and Wing-snapping Cisticolas.
#44: Fearful Owl
Wikipedia says: “Its call is similar to a clear human scream.” Got it. Native to the Solomon Islands.
#43: Mrs. Moreau’s Warbler
Reginald Moreau named this bird after his wife. Her actual name is Winifred.
At this point I’ve got to plug Steven Moss, who literally wrote the book on strange bird names, where they came from, and why we love them. His book is called Mrs. Moreau’s Warbler.
#42: Ventriloquial Oriole
As in, ventriloquist. Really torturing the word to turn it into an adjective. Apparently it’s hard to tell where the bird’s call is coming from in the forest canopies of the Philippines and Borneo.
#41: Macaroni Penguin
Named by British sailors referencing its stylish feathered crest, just like the feathers in Yankee Doodle. In 18th century Britain “macaroni” was an insult for excessively fashionable men obsessed with Continental fashions.
#40: Modest Tiger-Parrot
Beautiful, not to mention accomplished, but won’t tell you about it. Females have gorgeous orange and black tiger-like barring on their chest.
#39: Dark-eyed White-eye
An oxymoron with wings. If you ask what color its eyes really are, it will fight you. Tiny range in the Solomon Islands.
#38: Capuchinbird
As freaky as they come. Named after the way their feathers rise up around their bald heads, like the hoods of Capuchin monks. Their call is almost as strange, giving them the nickname calfbird.
#37: Bobolink
Formally, Robert of Lincoln. Named for their tinkling, robotic song. Arthur Bent called it “a bubbling delirium of ecstatic music.” Marathon migrants, traveling from the northern US to southern South America each year..
#36: King-of-Saxony Bird-of-Paradise
This bird has a lot going for it:
There are many “King” birds. This one actually tells you which one.
Birds-of-Paradise are the equivalent of legendary birds.
Winning reason: four hyphens, the most of any bird.
#35: Diabolical Nightjar
Also called satanic nightjar and devilish nightjar, probably a reference to its call. Many nocturnal birds are considered evil omens or just plain scary, but to me this one seems no more evil than the average bird.
#34: Rhinoceros Auklet
Look at the bill and you’ll get the name. eBird calls this cousin of the puffin a “gray seabird shaped like a football.”
#33: Double-eyed Fig Parrot
If you’re feeling mean, call this teensy parrot four-eyes. Named from the pair of blue spots on its face next to its real eyes. Fig parrots live in Australasia and as their name suggests, have a particular fondness for figs (other fruit too).
#32: Andean Cock-of-the-Rock
Its name is a classic, and its appearance lives up to it. The male’s bill disappears almost entirely in its bright orange feathered crest. Nests in rock walls, which is where it gets its name.
#31: Shining Sunbeam
A literal ray of light. From the “brilliants” group of hummingbirds. Only bird with a poem in its eBird description: “You are my sunbeam, my Shining Sunbeam / You make me happy when you display / Aglaeactis cupripennis / Please don’t take my sunbeam away.”
#30: Vampire Ground-Finch
A species of Galapagos finch (ie, Darwin’s Finches) that evolved the taste for blood, which it sometimes drinks by pecking open the skin of Blue-footed Boobies.
#29: Carunculated Caracara
The bright orange wrinkles, or “caruncles” on its face and throat give this bird its name. Caracaras are raptors found throughout the Americas, and they got their name from the Brazilian Tupi word for their call.
#28: Hoary Puffleg
I had to look up the definition of hoary. It describes something gray or white with age, and I can see how that would describe the white feathers on this bird’s face. You can’t see it in this picture but it’s also got nice white fluffy legwarmers.
#27: Chuck-will’s-Widow
A sequence of words that was never uttered until someone tried to put a name to this bird’s call. Closely related to the Whip-poor-will, which deserves an honorable mention.
#26: Chocolate Boobook
A deliciously brown owl from the Philippines. According to eBird, its call sounds like “boop!” One of three chocolate birds (Chocolate-backed Kingfisher; Chocolate-vented Tyrant).
#25: Ticking Doradito
Not a dorito. NOT A DORITO. Even though they have the exact same Spanish etymology (diminutive of “dorado”, or golden, so “little golden thing”). If I could name one bird it would be Dorito Doradito.
#24: Laughing Kookaburra
You knew this one was coming. Modest improvement from its common name in the 1800s, “laughing jackass.” Kookaburra comes from the bird’s name in the Aboriginal language Wiradjuri.
#23: Stark’s Lark
This name is crisp, understated, economical. A two syllable joke. Sets it up with Stark’s before perfectly nailing the landing. I’m not sure how many bird names rhyme, but I laughed out loud when I saw this one.
#22: Squatter Pigeon
Never skips leg day. It’s not completely clear where the name came from, but probably either because it stays low to the ground or because it’s associated with pastures in Northeast Australia where settlers, called “squatters,” grazed livestock.
#21: Invisible Rail
Honestly seems pretty conspicuous for a rail, a family of birds that would all deserve this title. But it’s just really good at hiding, so it’s still relatively unknown. Large, flightless, native to Indonesia.
#20: Blood Pheasant
This bird is from the netherworld (or, the Himalayas, depending on who’s asking), and it wears the blood of its enemies in its feathers.
#19: Bare-faced Go-away-bird
eBird calls it “unusual” and says its call is “a maniacal series of cackles and whines given by multiple birds in chorus.” Has a featherless face, unlike the other two kinds of go-away-birds, which apparently all sound like they’re saying “go away.”
#18: Green Mango
The name makes you think it’s an unripe fruit, but it’s really just a cute hummingbird from Puerto Rico.
#17: Zappey’s Flycatcher
Sounds like a 7 year old kid named it after his imaginary friend. One of the most whimsically named birds. A gorgeous and uncommon bird from East Asia.
#16: Leaf-love
Plenty of birds are named for what they do (flycatchers, kingfishers, foliage-gleaners, flowerpiercers). This bird isn’t a simple lover of leaves, but the pure embodiment of a principle—transcending into oneness with the foliage.
#15: Firewood-Gatherer
South American bird that makes a huge nest of sticks, looking like it’s collecting kindling. In a family of many other fantastic (but not top-100) birds—woodcreepers, scythebills, xenops, earthcreepers, tuftedcheeks, treehunters, treerunners, and spinetails.
#14: Razorbill
With a goth look and a goth name, this sleek seabird is the closest living relative to the Great Auk.
#13: Snoring Rail
Perfectly evocative name. Sounds about like you’d expect. A rarely-seen flightless bird from Indonesia.
#12: Transvolcanic Jay
Trans, and lives in a volcano (or rather, the band of volcanoes stretching across central Mexico). This one was new to me, and better than I could have hoped.
#11: Pipipi
Called the Brown Creeper in its native New Zealand, but American ornithologists use the Maori name because there’s already a Brown Creeper in the US. It’s hard to believe that a bird could have a better name than this one, but there are precisely ten that do.
#10: Strange Weaver
On first appearances no more odd than any of the other weavers. But they’re a real freak, once you get to know them. Found in Uganda, Rwanda, and Burundi.
#9: Morepork
Sounds like a carnivorous frog. Or an order at a BBQ joint. Or a Capitol Hill lobbyist. But actually a small brown owl from New Zealand.
#8: Cut-Throat
Incredibly hard name. But it fits. The males of these otherwise understated birds have a crescent of blood-red scarlet stretching from ear to ear.
#7: Horned Screamer
A classic. Massive, swamp dwelling oddity. Even stranger than its cousins, the Northern Screamer and Southern Screamer. As the name suggests, very loud, and with a massive spike on its forehead.
#6: Inaccessible Island Rail
There’s a tiny island in the middle of the Atlantic called Inaccessible Island. And on that island lives a tiny rail, the smallest flightless bird in the world, about the size of a large house sparrow.
#5: Predicted Antwren
Based on genetic analysis of birds in the region, biologists predicted that an undescribed species of antwren ought to exist in the western Amazon. As predicted, they found this new species in 2013, hence the name.
#4: Surfbird
Coolest bird around. Give it a board and a pair of shades, it’s ready to shred. Spot it catching waves (well, just avoiding them) on rocky coastlines from Alaska to Chile.
#3: Supertramp Fantail
This name is breathtaking, bizarre, and entirely unexpected. Despite all appearances, not a fan of the British rock band, but rather named for a biological concept of rapidly colonizing recently disturbed environments, which this one does.
#2: Plains-wanderer
Mythical, austere, even heroic. Stars opposite John Wayne in a couple westerns. Even more mysterious than the name suggests. According to eBird, “unlikely to be observed without deliberate search and professional help.”
Now, as I stand at the precipice of proclaiming one bird name greater than the rest, I look back at the 99 that made the list and past them at 11,000 that didn’t, each unique and valued, and somehow all insufficient to embody the wonder of the birds they describe.
What makes a bird’s name great? That it’s funny? Or original? Are those better than the unexpected, unique, inspiring, delightful, or just perfectly apt? It seems audacious, even reckless, to say one name is better than another, much less proclaim one the greatest of them all.
These names are constructs, mere labels no more intrinsic to a bird than they are to a street or to a star. Yet to name is human, and so is to classify, and to order, and rank. Inventing names, and assembling listicles, are the highest manifestations of the human spirit.
So as a professional and personal duty, and without regard for the friends that may leave me or the enemies I may create with the top spot on this list, I’ve identified the greatest bird name of all time:
#1: Mallard
The name is innate. It is absolute. Its origins stretch beyond memory, beyond time. It is inseparable from the bird it describes. Mallard means duck. Mallard means bird.
Did I get this list right? Did I snub some of your favorites? I want your takes!
Putting this list together was far harder than I expected it to be, and I found dozens of deserving birds that tragically didn’t fit into the top 100 but still deserve some recognition. Here are some honorable mentions:
African Sacred Ibis
Bagobo Babbler
Banda Sea Monarch
Barred Becard
Bat-like Spinetail
Beautiful Sunbird
Black Jacobin
Black Berrypecker
Bohemian Waxwing
Bounty Shag
Brolga
Bruce’s Green Pigeon
Burnt-necked Eremomela
Checker-throated Stipplethroat
Chorister Robin-Chat
Cinerous Mourner
Clicking Shrike-Babbler
Coppersmith Barbet
Crag-chilia
Crimson Seedcracker
Crinckle-collared Manucode
Croaking Ground Dove
Dodo
Donaldson-Smith’s Nightjar
Drab Hemispingus
Familiar Chat
Festive Coquette
Fiery Minivet
Fiscal Flycatcher
Fluffy-backed Tit-babbler
Gibberbird
Hardhead
Kelp Goose
Lava Gull
Lemon Dove
Mewing Kingfisher
Moustached Tinkerbird
Nene
Oilbird
Okarito Kiwi
Phainopepla
Philippine Frogmouth
Pied Butcherbird
Pilotbird
Pyrrholuxia
Racket-tailed Treepie
Redhead
Rock-runner
Ruff
Salmon-Crested Cockatoo
Screaming Cowbird
Shoebill
Smew
Swamp Boubou
Tiny Tyrant-manakin
Variable Limestone Babbler
Vegetarian Finch
Volcano Junco
Vulturine Guineafowl
Welcome Swallow
Wrinkled Hornbill
Yellow-scarfed Tanager
I spent way longer reading this than I probably should have. Fabulous! I can't imagine how you decided on the order. (Though I did read that apparently the term "cuckold" isn't, in fact, related to cuckoos.)
I doled these out a dozen a day, didn't want it to end. Bravo! I've found myself muttering "Chaco Chachalaca" and chuckling.