On top of Telegraph Hill, in the Coit Tower gift shop, the manager fields questions from thousands of international and American tourists. Where can I find the wild parrots? How are they doing? Three years ago, he got almost no questions about the wild flock. Now, almost a third of the inquiries are about parrots. Many people make a special pilgrimage to Telegraph Hill just to catch a glimpse of the now-famous red-and-green birds. Of course you always hear them first: squawking maniacally, as if they’re arguing about where to fly. If you’re lucky, they will land in a tree just above you and continue their chattering. Then maybe they’ll fall silent, except for a low-pitched warning call, and they will tilt their heads, scanning the sky for hawks.
They follow their own schedule, and no one can accurately predict where the flock will be at any given moment, but good bets are Telegraph Hill, upper Fort Mason, and the Lombard Gate entrance to the Presidio. Their foraging patterns change with the seasons; as fruit becomes ripe they go for it, farther and farther afield. They search for good nest holes throughout the city, and after the babies fledge, the flock flies together in one huge excited mass for a short time before breaking into smaller groups again. For this reason it’s hard to get an accurate count. About a year ago Mark took a photo of the big post-fledge flock and counted the dots. It’s clear that they have become well-established in San Francisco, and, like other wild birds, they don’t need subsidization. In fact Mark isn’t even feeding them any more.
It all started a couple of years ago, when a man got in touch with him and asked if he thought it would be a good idea if this fellow starting feeding the parrots in Ferry Park, a big swath of open space north of the Embarcadero buildings. Mark told him it would be a terrible idea, because hand-feeding in a big public space would expose the flock to danger. His worst fear was that the birds would become accustomed to strangers, and that someday, one of those strangers would snatch a parrot out of the wild. The guy started feeding despite Mark’s warnings, and soon he attracted not only the parrots, but a group of “regulars” who fed every day and started handing out seeds to passersby.
It is a joy to hand-feed wild birds. Mark and I both know that from experience. But if the feeding puts the birds in danger, it isn’t a good idea to keep doing it. We heard about the feeding at Ferry Park, but hoped that people would lose interest after awhile. At the time Mark was still feeding the parrots occasionally too, so who was he to tell them to stop? There was a beautiful bird we’d named Natalie, with a stunning orange breast that made her easy to identify, who came by often. She’d land on Mark’s hands and arms, and crawl around on his head messing up his hair. She was so friendly and unafraid that she reminded us both of Fanny, who loved to bite Mark’s glasses. Well, one day Natalie disappeared, last seen on someone’s shoulder at the park. At that point we knew we had to do something to try to protect the rest of the birds from capture. When Mark was feeding them by himself, he never handed out seeds to others, and made sure that the parrots remained wary of strangers. “That’s a healthy situation for a wild animal,” he says in the new short film I produced about this issue.
We found out that feeding birds was already illegal on San Francisco’s streets, sidewalks, and driveways, and requested that “parks” be added to that list. When the proposed ordinance was introduced in committee, it was re-written to apply only to wild parrots, and it eventually passed by a 10 to 1 margin. We went down to the park to hand out informational fliers before the ordinance went into effect, and came upon quite a scene: There were 47 people feeding, taking each other’s pictures, handing out seeds and apples, with parrots on heads and arms and even pecking around on the ground. Everybody was having a great time, but it was clear that the parrots were extremely vulnerable to anyone who might not have their best interests at heart. Most of the regulars, in their defense, do love the parrots and claimed that they were watching out for them, but they could do nothing to control those who didn’t. Mark’s worst fear had come true: The flock had already become habituated to strangers. Before the ordinance went into effect we heard about other attempted and actual birdnappings, as well as the tragic death of a parrot who was swooping so low through the park that she slammed into a taxicab.
We pulled together a group of 10 volunteers, the “Parrot Patrol,” to continue handing out fliers and help enforce the law. A big sign went up: “Feeding birds, including parrots, prohibited in Ferry Park.” We worked with Animal Care and Control officers, park rangers, and police, who gave out warnings but never actually had to issue a “ticket.” Gradually, the massive feedings diminished, and finally stopped altogether. The flock is hopefully re-learning its fear of strangers. And because it wasn’t fair to ask others to stop while he kept feeding, Mark stopped feeding the wild parrots as well. (For details, see his essay on the hand-feeding ordinance:
Redirect to Poetry and Prose) We’re feeding the native birds now – especially goldfinches, hummingbirds, and chickadees.
We’re still in the house that Mark started caretaking several years ago, but now we own it. The people who’d inherited it, along with several other cottages on the same lot, sold the property to a group I put together as a tenants-in-common. And so, Mark and I got to stay on Telegraph Hill, surrounded by the raucous chatter we love, caring for our 4 parrots inside. Since San Francisco limits the number of birds you can have in your house to 4, we’re maxed out. Mickaboo Companion Bird Rescue has taken over the role that Mark once played, rescuing sick and injured members of the wild parrot flock, along with many other species, and finding foster homes for them. (They need support:
Mickaboo Companion Bird Rescue.) Ebony, our beloved old cat, died earlier this year. Although we miss her a lot, it means that Filbert, Sweetheart, Big Bird, and Parker have more room to roam.
Two of the Bonus Features on the new DVD are edited “Strictly for Parrots,” and our 4 birds enjoy watching them: Amazons in Orange County, macaws in South America, African greys in Cameroon, cockatoos in Australia – all doing their thing in the wild: foraging, playing, fighting, flying. The scenes were filmed by the World Parrot Trust (
World Parrot Trust - Saving Parrots Worldwide). There’s a funny music video called “Ballad of the Brooklyn Parrots” and a short film about Quakers and power poles. I also included two new documentaries that I finished in the last few years: “19 Arrests, No Convictions,” about a Bay swimmer, and “Christmas at the Bait Shop.” (See
Welcome to Pelican Media for details.)
Mark and I got married two years ago, as a surprise ending to my 60th birthday. I’d never wanted to be married before, and he’d always wanted to be, so it turned out to be a “first” for both of us. There’s a sequence on the Collector’s Edition called “Mark and Judy Update” with some funky home movies of the ceremony, held outside at the South End Rowing Club, where we swim in the Bay. Mark is working on a new book about his time on the street, tentatively entitled “Street Song,” and I’m working on a new film about brown pelicans, tentatively called “Pelican Dreams.”
When Mark started feeding the parrots, he was looking for his path in life. He wanted to find creative work that would support him, a home, and someone to love. The wild parrots brought him all of this. They changed my life in the same way. They are magical beings, and I hope, if you haven’t seen them yet in person, you come soon to San Francisco, climb Telegraph Hill, and have your own extraordinary encounter.
The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill: 2-Disc Collector’s Edition is available at
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