When I left the Bay Area after 4 lovely years, I didn’t leave my heart in San Francisco: I left it in the heart-shaped labyrinth in the Oakland Hills.

The labyrinth is a small, slightly squished heart-shaped maze of rocks tucked away at the bottom of an abandoned quarry pit in Sibley Volcanic Regional Preserve, one of the crown jewels of the East Bay Regional Park System.

Sibley is just 15 minutes from downtown Oakland by car, but feels like another world entirely.

In winter the lush green hills feel like Scotland, crested with fog and dotted with cows. But the air, unlike Scotland’s, smells like eucalytpus and Monterey pine, with occasional hints of sea breeze from the San Francisco Bay below.

In spring the poppies and lupines burst forth like weeds, speckling the steep hillsides with color. (More than 90 wildflower species call Sibley home.) Checkered butterflies flit overhead, dozens a minute during their peak migration.

And in summer, the hills bleach themselves blonde like true California girls, tanning their once-green grasses to a crisp in the Sunshine State’s powerful sunshine (along with any SPF-less hiker) until the winter rains and fog return once more.

I hiked at Sibley at least a hundred times during my life in Oakland, sometimes five or six times in a single week. It was the closest off-leash, unfenced dog park to my house, perfect for letting Juno (and myself) burn off steam after a cramped, screen-filled day in our San Francisco office. No matter how stressful the work or how crowded the city below, we always had the peak to ourselves at sunset.

(Sibley is truly a dog’s best friend. Sitting atop the hill on a summer Saturday, you might see half a dozen unleashed dogs freely loping down the trail and across the meadows with no owners in sight, giving the brief illusion that Sibley is a park for wild dogs to frolic freely without human interference.)

From Round Top, the summit of the extinct volcano that gives Sibley Volcanic Park its name, we watched dozens of nightly explosions in the sky — some of the best sunsets I ever saw, in a state spoiled silly with spectacular sunsets.

You can see all the lights of Oakland and Berkeley from there, from the redwood-crested University of California campus all the way down to the bustling port. But you can also glimpse the bracelets of bridges that link Oakland to San Francisco and the golden hills beyond, reflected in the shimmering waters of the Bay.

Red brake lights on the Oakland Bridge, the glittering silver of the San Francisco skyline, golden headlights on the Golden Gate, and just beyond that, rays of light hitting the Pacific…all visible from a grassy hillside above the heart-shaped labyrinth.

Ah, yes. The heart-shaped labyrinth!

Where to find the Heart-Shaped Labyrinth

There are so many trails at Sibley Volcanic Regional Preserve, zigzagging in so many directions, that most people miss the labyrinths entirely — even though there are at least five.

My personal favorite labyrinth, the heart-shaped one, is about a mile from the Sibley staging area. Start with the trail to the right of the restrooms when you’re facing them from the parking lot.

After about 50 feet you’ll reach the “Dogs Allowed Off Leash” sign —hooray!— and know you’re headed in the right direction.

Keep following the paved path until you see a cattle gate and pass through it, being careful to close the gate behind you. From here, it’s gravel and dirt.

When you reach a fork in the road, turn up and to the right onto the Quarry Trail. You’ll see geologic marker #4 (see here for the full self-guided geological tour) and then the labyrinth!

The heart gets slightly mushy after a downpour, like all fragile hearts do, but it never stays that way for long. Someone always comes along to mend it.

If you like, you can tumble down to the base of the quarry pit and walk the labyrinth yourself, in meditation or in prayer. It won’t take long, so you can stop to contrast the tiny offerings made by previous visitors with the huge silhouette of Mount Diablo in the background.

Where to find the Mazziarello Labyrinth

The largest, most famous labyrinth in the Oakland Hills is the Mazzariello Labyrinth, created as a “gift to the world” by artist Helena Mazzariello in 1990.

It inspired several smaller, copycat labyrinths around Sibley, like the heart-shaped one, where hikers go to meditate and leave small talismans or prayers in the center.

There are at least five separate labyrinths at Sibley visible on Google Earth, though I’ve only managed to spot four while hiking. (The last one might be overgrown now, or swept away by mudslides: more than once on our way down from a hike at Sibley, we had to stop while road crews cleared a mini-mudslide from the road.)

The Mazzariello labyrinth is on Google Maps, which makes it a bit easier to find. You can start on the same trail you take for the heart-shaped labyrinth, but turn off earlier towards the Round Top Trail.

A love letter to Sibley

As I mentioned, I visited the heart-shaped labyrinth at least a hundred times when I lived in California between the ages of 23 and 27. Like most people’s mid-20s, it was the best of times and it was the worst times. I had friends I mostly loved and jobs I mostly hated, with many hikes’ worth of uncertainty and self-doubt cured by moving meditation.

Juno and I visited Sibley in every mood of mother nature’s and in every mood of mine. When I was frazzled and fried like the burnt-up grass, when I was as calm and quiet as eucalyptus leaves dripping after rain, when I was bright and cheerful as a fresh-faced California poppy opening herself up to the sun.

I’d look down from the top of Round Top at the San Francisco skyline below. If I squinted, I could see my office building, at least until the behemoth Salesforce Tower (which I watched spring from nothing to the tallest building in the city over the course of three years) sprung up in front of it.

I’d stare down at the city, so small from our 10-mile distance across a Bay, dreading the next time I’d have to ride a train under the water and an elevator up to the 8th floor to my desk. I’d wish I could stay up there forever, with the soft grass and the wildflowers and Juno, until the blue sky burst into a perfect, supersaturated sunset, the lights twinkled over the ocean, and Juno howled at the moon.

Afternoon a Hill, Edna St. Vincent Millay

I will be the gladdest thing
Under the sun.
I will touch a hundred flowers
And not pick one.
I will look at cliffs and clouds
With quiet eyes,
Watch the wind bow down the grass,
And the grass rise.
And when lights begin to show
Up from the town,
I will mark which must be mine,
And then start down.

Note: Sibley is one of the best places near San Francisco to catch sunset, but beware of mountain lions! We never saw one, but we definitely heard one — and Juno once found what was almost certainly a mountain lion’s cache with a half-eaten deer carcass.

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Questions about visiting the heart-shaped labyrinth in the Oakland hills? Let me know below!