Transamerica Redwood Park

September 14, 2026

I'm in the Transamerica Redwood Park, and today is special because this park came highly recommended by a friend of mine who used to live and work in the city. The fountain is being repaired, so most of that side of the park is fenced off, but I peeked through the chain links, and plan to come back when the area is open and the water is running. 

I eventually find a way through the construction. Giant redwood trees shoot up beside the narrow path. Amazingly, and likely by design, the foliage in the trees starts just above the buttress at the Transamerica Pyramid. So the large, sweeping pillars triangulate at eye level as the trunks draw your gaze up, up to the peaks of the trees, and higher still to the peak of the tower. 

It is likely no accident that this place exists in the heart of a city so committed to growth. I bend in the shade of these giants, drawn to the dirt by some movement between the fallen needles, and spot a little moth trodding through the mulch. Tiny redwood cones lay like little jokers in the garden beds. Isn't it funny that such giant trees sprout such cute little seeds? Each one is about the size of the first digit on my thumb. 

At the east side of the park, concrete podium benches support stained wood seats of various sizes. One large one looks like it could be a stage, while the others are scattered about in a small plaza partially lit by the afternoon sun. 

Most of the people back here seem to be quietly eating their lunches. Someone has a curry that smells so good it's making me hungry, even though I already ate. Some people have dogs on leashes and in harnesses, and there are a surprising number of miniature poodles and labradoodles. A group of people are chatting in a cluster on benches nearby, but it’s one pm now, and the construction has picked up and I only hear occasional snippets of jargon - it is clear that these are business men, but I couldn’t tell you anything about their businesses.