Rome is rarely thought of as a wildlife destination. People come for history, architecture, and food. Yet above the traffic, between churches and ruins, another layer of the city is constantly in motion.

We have just to look up for a moment: then a peregrine falcon cuts through the air between buildings, fast and precise, disappearing behind a bell tower. At dusk, the sky fills with movement, starlings gathering, shifting, settling. Later, when the streets quiet down, tawny owls and little owls begin to call from trees, courtyards, and ancient roman walls.

None of this is accidental. Many species have adapted to urban life, facing new challenges and exploiting new resources. In Rome, food is abundant: prey as pigeons, sparrows, and starlings sustain falcons and kestrels, while human waste can be exploited by wild boars, rats and foxes. Food, in a city, is rarely limiting.

Equally important are nesting sites and quiet places. Cliffs have been replaced by buildings. Ledges, rooftops, cavities in old masonry, these structures mimic the natural environments many species evolved to use. Some birds, like peregrine falcons, have settled on the tallest structures while others rely on hidden corners: under tiles, beneath bridges, and in the abundant urban green spaces as graveyards, urban parks and private gardens.

Urban wildlife here is not separate from human life: it is embedded within it. People pass beneath nesting falcons on their way to work, unaware of the activity overhead. Foxes move through the outskirts at night. In some parts of Italy, even bears, wolves, and deer approach villages, drawn by food and a relative tolerance that would have been unthinkable decades ago.

This coexistence is not always visible, and not always simple. But it is real. Cities like Rome show that wildlife does not only persist far from people, it can adapt, quietly and effectively, to some of the most human-dominated landscapes.

We just have to look up.