Parrots? In San Francisco?

To anyone who has ever kept birds as pets, as I have, it may come as a surprise to learn that several U.S. cities (including Brooklyn and Chicago!) are home to feral parrot flocks. And while the thrill of seeing these beautiful birds flying free and thriving in a wild state may not be your first reason to travel to one of these cities, it’s certainly an experience worth going out of the way for once you’re there.

And what if you happened to find yourself living right next door to a group of these remarkable birds?

The image of a quiet observer befriending wild creatures brings to mind Jane Goodall with the chimps of Gombe or Dian Fossey and the gorillas of Rwanda’s forests. But a similar story played out in the shadow of San Francisco’s Coit Tower when “bohemian St. Francis” Mark Bittner noticed the cherry-headed conure flock on Telegraph Hill. Over the years, Bittner became an expert in the ways of the parrots, an advocate for their welfare, and their friend.

Documentary filmmaker Judy Irving depicts Bittner’s relationship with these intriguing birds in her elegant and intimate film portrait, The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill.

It’s also a portrait of a unique neighborhood in a unique city.

A few (vertical) steps from North Beach with a commanding view of San Francisco Bay, Telegraph Hill was for years a working class enclave. The steep building conditions kept land prices low so that dock workers could afford to live there.

One of the few neighborhoods in San Francisco to escape nearly unharmed from the 1906 earthquake, Telegraph Hill features some of the city’s oldest buildings.

In this century, sleek modernist architecture huddles on the hills alongside nineteenth century “cottages.” It was in one of these cottages that Bittner lived rent-free when he began following the flock.

Bittner had traveled to San Francisco to seek his purpose, working briefly as a musician before realizing it was not his path. Instead, he became a self-described “Dharma bum,” supporting himself by doing odd jobs and exploring eastern spirituality.

Although he remarked several times in the film that he didn’t want to be seen as eccentric, the path Bittner followed is undoubtedly unconventional. And his simple life and ability to live on very little money gave him time to observe the birds.

Bittner started watching the native scrub jays and mourning doves but found them dull. Then one day he noticed green parrots perched in nearby trees.

As he watched, the parrots reminded him more of acrobatic monkeys than of birds. Their antics drew him in until he began to recognize the unique appearances and distinctive behaviors of the birds. And then he began to give them names.

Parrot of Telegraph Hill, photo by Dave Schumaker

By the time Irving began filming Bittner with the parrots, he had been observing them for over five years and was feeding them by hand. Or, in some cases, a parrot would take a sunflower seed directly from his bearded mouth.

Bittner had his favorite birds. He was particularly fond of the blue-crowned conure he called Connor. Being a different species, Connor was an outlier in the flock. but he had a dignity and protectiveness toward vulnerable birds, including a budgie Bittner called Smitty.

Despite their increasing comfort with Bittner, the birds remained wild. Although he occasionally nursed sick birds in his apartment, they didn’t enjoy confinement. As Bittner explained to curious neighbors and tourists who watched his interactions with the birds, the parrots were not his pets.

And yet the parrots apparently found the Telegraph Hill neighborhood as salubrious as their South American homelands. In his research, Bittner discovered that the exotic garden plants of his neighbors provided as much food for the parrots as they would have found in Ecuador or Peru.

San Francisco, both temperate and tolerant, was a welcoming habitat for both the solitary man and the wild birds.

And just as the dense gardens of Telegraph Hill protected the birds, Judy Irving’s film created a nurturing vessel for Mark Bittner’s story.

Flying Flock, photographed by Andrew Fitzhugh

The Wild Parrots of Telegraph Hill is a beautifully observed tale of a neighborhood, a man, and a flock of birds. But unlike many documentaries, Irving is more than an observer. She injects herself into the film and becomes an actor in the lives of both Bittner and the birds. Her involvement leads to the film’s charming surprise ending.

What’s perhaps most surprising is how well the film depicts the individual characters of the birds we meet–and how easily we are drawn into their stories.

I was intrigued enough that when I visited San Francisco a few weeks after first seeing the film, my first stop was Telegraph Hill. I was thrilled upon climbing the Greenwich steps to see a large flock of parrots headed toward their nesting area for the night. I didn’t have time to see if I could recognize the individual birds I remembered from the film. But I have no doubt their individual characters would have shown through after the briefest of meetings.

The film’s great promise is that anyone with a little time can make connections to wild animals they may have never thought possible.As Bittner stated in the film, “They’re afraid of death. They’re afraid of injury. They’re afraid of being alone. Like us.”