César Chávez Park in Berkeley is well known for its expansive views of the bay, strong ocean breezes, and, for those who know where to look, its population of burrowing owls that take refuge in the park’s open fields during the winter months. With Julia and Trevor, in tow, we set out in hopes of spotting one of these elusive little raptors.
Despite our best efforts, the burrowing owls remained hidden. The rolling grasslands and rocky outcroppings they call home stretched before us, but the only signs of life were rustling grasses and the occasional scurrying ground squirrel. Still, the park offered no shortage of other wildlife.
As we walked along the trails, a great blue heron stood motionless along the shoreline, non reactive to the humans walking by. Overhead, a turkey vulture circled lazily, riding the wind currents. More dramatic was the sight of a raven tearing into another bird, a stark reminder that nature, even in a peaceful park, is often brutal.
On the water, a small group of greater scaup dove beneath the surface, fishing with remarkable precision, while a bufflehead bobbed along nearby, flashing its distinctive white head patch. Along the tree line, we caught glimpses of a Nuttall’s woodpecker hammering at a trunk, and a flock of house finches flitted through the branches, their soft chatter filling the air.
The most striking sight of the day was a western meadowlark perched among the tall grasses, its yellow chest vibrant against the muted greens and browns of the landscape. It sang briefly before vanishing into the brush.
Even without our intended sighting of the burrowing owl, the visit was a reminder that patience and curiosity are always rewarded in nature. We’ll be back again—perhaps next time, with a bit more luck.
