You’re walking up the Filbert Steps, heart pounding because San Francisco hills are no joke, and suddenly you hear it. It’s not the foghorn or the cable car bell. It’s a raucous, screeching, tropical sound that feels entirely out of place in a city known for its chilly summers and Victorian architecture. Then you see them—a flash of emerald green and cherry red darting between the Monterey pines. These are the wild parrots of Telegraph Hill, and honestly, their story is way weirder and more resilient than the postcards suggest.
Most people assume they escaped from a crashed plane or flew all the way from South America. Neither is true. These birds are cherry-headed conures (Psittacara erythrogenys), a species native to the deciduous forests of Ecuador and Peru. They didn't fly thousands of miles across oceans and borders; they were brought here by the pet trade in the late 1980s and early 90s. Someone probably got tired of the noise—because, let's be real, conures are incredibly loud—and opened a window. Or a few escaped from a local pet shop. Whatever the origin, they found each other. And then they thrived.
Why They Haven't Frozen to Death Yet
It’s the first question everyone asks. How does a bird from the equator survive a San Francisco winter?
The answer is surprisingly simple: San Francisco is rarely "freezing." While we complain about the 45-degree mornings, it’s a far cry from a Chicago blizzard. These birds are tough. They’ve adapted to the microclimates of the city, finding shelter in the thick ivy and evergreen trees that stay lush year-round. Plus, the urban environment is basically a giant buffet. Between the neighborhood bird feeders and the ornamental fruit trees planted across the city, they’re eating better than some humans. They love hawthorn berries. They've been seen devouring juniper berries and blossoms from exotic plants that shouldn't be here, just like the birds themselves.
It’s a strange synergy. San Francisco’s landscaping is a patchwork of non-native species, and the parrots have basically mapped out a seasonal menu across the city's zip codes.
The Mark Bittner Connection
You can’t talk about the wild parrots of Telegraph Hill without mentioning Mark Bittner. He’s the guy who basically became their "St. Francis." In the 90s, he was a bohemian musician living in a rent-free cottage on the hill, and he spent years feeding, naming, and studying the flock. He wrote a book, and later, a documentary was made.
Bittner’s work was crucial because he gave us the first real census of the flock. He identified individuals like Connor, the lone blue-crowned conure who acted as a sort of patriarch despite being a different species. This wasn't just some guy throwing birdseed; he documented their social hierarchies, their mating rituals, and the heartbreaking way they cared for their sick. It turned a "nuisance" into a local treasure. But Bittner eventually stopped feeding them—partly because it’s generally not great for wild animals to depend on a single human, and partly because the flock grew too large for one person to manage.
Where the Flock is Today (They Moved!)
If you go to Telegraph Hill expecting to see 300 birds at Coit Tower, you might be disappointed. The name "Telegraph Hill" is a bit of a legacy title now. The flock has grown and split. You’ll now find them in the Presidio, down in Brisbane, over in Sunnyvale, and even hanging out in Dolores Park. They’re explorers.
Current estimates from local birders and the Golden Gate Audubon Society suggest the population is anywhere from 300 to 400 birds. That’s a massive jump from the handful of escapees that started it all. However, they face real threats.
- PBFD (Psittacine Beak and Feather Disease): This is a nasty virus that can wipe out entire populations. It’s highly contagious among parrots.
- Hawks: Red-tailed hawks and Cooper's hawks have figured out that "bright green" basically means "easy lunch."
- The Law: California is strict about invasive species. While the parrots aren't currently considered a major threat to local ecosystems—partly because they stick to urban areas rather than moving into deep forests—they exist in a legal gray area.
Common Misconceptions About the Birds
People call them "parakeets." Technically, they are. But "conure" is the specific name you'll hear from birders. Also, people think they’re native to the city because they’ve been here so long. They aren’t. But after 30-plus years, they’ve become what many call "naturalized." They fill a niche that wasn't being used. San Francisco doesn't have a lot of native birds that occupy the "loud, fruit-eating canopy dweller" slot.
The birds are also incredibly smart. They recognize faces. If you live on the hill and feed them, they will remember you. They might even scream at your window if you’re late with breakfast. This intelligence is why they’ve survived. They learn where the water is. They learn which houses have the best sunflower seeds. They teach their young how to navigate the city's specific wind patterns.
The Controversy of Interaction
There’s a tension between people who love the parrots and the people who actually have to live with them. Imagine trying to take a nap or have a business call while 40 cherry-headed conures are having a screaming match on your balcony. It’s a lot.
Then there’s the health aspect. Feeding the birds can lead to "angel wing" (a deformity caused by poor diet) or help spread PBFD. Mickaboo Companion Bird Rescue, a local non-profit, often ends up taking in the sick or injured ones. They’re the real unsung heroes here. They deal with the consequences of the "wild" life—the broken wings from window strikes or the birds that fall ill because they’ve been eating junk food left out by tourists.
If you see a parrot on the ground that isn't flying away, it’s not "tame." It’s in trouble. Don't try to keep it. Call a rescue.
How to Actually See Them
Don't just stand at the bottom of Coit Tower and look up. That's a rookie move. To find the wild parrots of Telegraph Hill, you have to follow your ears.
- Timing is everything. They are most active—and loudest—at dawn and dusk. This is when they move from their roosting spots to their feeding grounds.
- The Filbert and Greenwich Steps. These are the prime corridors. Look for the trees with red berries. If you see a pile of half-eaten fruit on the stairs, look up.
- Ferry Building/Embarcadero. Lately, the flock has been frequenting the palm trees along the waterfront. The contrast of the green birds against the blue Bay Bridge is a photographer’s dream.
- Listen for the "Scree." It’s a very distinct, repetitive high-pitched squawk. Once you hear it, you won't mistake it for anything else.
The Ethics of Being a Parrot Tourist
Look, it’s tempting to bring a bag of seeds to get that perfect Instagram shot. Honestly, don't. The city has actually passed ordinances in the past regarding feeding wildlife in certain areas. Beyond the legal stuff, it makes the birds bold in a way that gets them killed. A bird that thinks humans are food dispensers is a bird that might land on a car or get too close to a dog.
Instead, bring binoculars. Bring a long lens. Watch them interact. They are deeply social. You’ll see them preening each other, which is how they maintain social bonds. You’ll see pairs that stay together for years. It’s a soap opera in the trees if you watch long enough.
What the Future Holds
Is the flock sustainable? Probably. They've survived the 1989 earthquake, various droughts, and the ever-changing skyline of San Francisco. They are as much a part of the city’s identity now as the Transamerica Pyramid or the sea lions at Pier 39.
But their survival depends on us keeping the "wild" in wild parrots. As the city gets denser and more glass-heavy buildings go up, bird strikes become a bigger issue. As we plant more native gardens, the parrots might have to adapt their diet again. They are a living lesson in synanthropes—animals that live near and benefit from humans but remain wild.
Actionable Steps for Your Visit
- Check the Weather: The birds are less active in heavy fog or rain. Aim for a clear morning for the best visibility.
- Download the "iNaturalist" App: Use it to log your sightings. This data actually helps researchers track the flock’s movements across the Bay Area.
- Support Local Rescue: If you want to help, don't feed the birds. Donate to Mickaboo Companion Bird Rescue. They are the ones who provide medical care for the Telegraph Hill flock when they get sick or injured.
- Visit the San Francisco Botanical Garden: While not Telegraph Hill, the flock often swings through the arboretum in Golden Gate Park. It's a great spot to see them in a more "natural" setting than a fire escape.
The presence of these birds is a reminder that nature is persistent. Even in a city of steel and concrete, a little bit of the tropics has managed to carve out a home. Just watch your head—sometimes they drop half-eaten crackers.