I’m still trying to convince myself that I am a watercolour artist, with tongue in cheek. The qualification in my case is laughable, but what a lot of fun I am having.
Something that interests and confuses me is the colour names of watercolour paint. I found one source that said the names of colours represent centuries of “linguistic evolution, cultural exchange, scientific discovery, and artistic expression” (Emily Johnson, Jan. 24, 2026).
But a cadmium yellow manufactured by one company does not have the same pigment as a cadmium yellow from another. One source said that choosing colours by pigment numbers is the more accurate method of selection. Suffice to say that colour naming continues to evolve and that concept… got me thinking.
There is a growing movement to recover and use Indigenous bird names, led by Indigenous knowledge keepers with the support of conservation groups. Many of the names focus on Anishinaabemowin (Ojibwe) names, but other First Nations are participating.
One might ask why a bird’s name matters. Indigenous names given to birds were to attach a code of their behaviour, what roles they played in the environment, their sounds and what relationship they had with the Indigenous community. The name might reference flight patterns or nesting behaviours or physical traits, for example. The names carried their own miniature knowledge system.
When I researched the Hudson Bay Company Archives for details of my ancestors’ lives, I found mention of the birds providing information for the company men, wisdom learned from the Cree. The sharp-tailed grouse were living sensors, guiding decisions about hunting, travel and weather. Eagles signalled weather changes—low, heavy flight warned of approaching storms, while soaring high suggested stable conditions. When eagles returned to nesting sites, the spring thaw was about to happen.
The loon was important in “reading the land”. Rapid, repeated wails signalled incoming storms and heavy winds. Calm, infrequent calling meant stable weather, safe canoe travel. Cree travellers used the loon’s voice to help them navigate in fog or at night. When Indigenous language is suppressed, we lose a valuable connection in understanding the natural environment and our relationship with it.
Joe Pitawanakwat is one of the key players in this movement. He is of the Wikwemikong First Nation on Manitoulin Island and an Anishinaabe knowledge keeper. There is so much to share about his life dedicated to focusing attention and education on Indigenous knowledge that space does not allow.
Joe and those working with him have recovered over 150 names. They plan to create a reference guide for general use. They have been working with Indigenous elders across Ontario, those who are fluent speakers having held tightly to their language, and due to their age, time is of the essence. They have collaborated with Birds Canada, who have published pamphlets featuring Indigenous names that provide support for the recovery of this community-led knowledge. Holding public education events with workshops and hikes allows the public to view the birds through the lens of Indigenous language and teachings.
This is not a push to replace English names, but rather is part of the recovery and revitalization of Indigenous names and language, as a resource to reconnect language and land with ecological knowledge. The integration of Indigenous knowledge in our understanding of practices in conservation is an important shift. Encouraging and allowing for greater interest in Indigenous language benefits us all. Providing for Indigenous-led conservation is essential to the welfare of Canada’s vast land base.
Indigenous names indicate where birds feed or nest, which allows for locating medicinal plants. Names differ significantly across First Nations, which increases the value of language as a tool. Each Nation highlights a bird’s trait that is significant for that culture, widening our understanding of the bird and the role it plays. Indigenous names rely on history, place and belonging and are not merely labels.
This is where it gets exciting and hopeful and can change the way we think about and view the natural world. Indigenous strength is found in their understanding that animals and the land have agency. The use of Indigenous names fosters respectful relationships and responsible stewardship.
Embracing this process brings ecological knowledge back to the people and creates understanding that we are “part of” rather than “consumers of” nature. Knowing how birds behave, where they nest, what their seasonal behaviour looks like and what it tells us, helps us to support their habitat. And of course, the obvious benefit is the starting point for revitalizing Indigenous language.
