This morning, my wife and I walked over to Trader Joe’s, after failing to find what we wanted from Smart & Final. Approaching, we observed a long line wrapped down the side of the store around to the back employee/loading entrance.
Is this about eggs? I wondered, thinking that perhaps people were being let in a few customers at a time to avoid crowding and violating fire codes. But, when we arrived at the doors, other folks flowed in and out unimpaired. The line stayed still in place. WTH?
When my wife and I entered San Diego Zoo on April 4, 2025—the first time since summer 2000—a staffer approached and offered to suggest a destination. The Australian recommended the Koalas, which were being fed at that moment. So off went Annie and I, as you can see from the Featured Image and companion.
The eucalyptus addicts were indeed chowing down, but they kept (purposefully?) behind poles or trees, making getting good shots to be difficult. I would have walked out with nothing, if not for Nikon Zf and attached NIKKOR Z 24-200mm f/4-6.3 VR lens.
Yesterday, my wife and I walked over to Balboa Park, while we waited for the queue to shorten outside San Diego Zoo’s membership pavilion. We passed through the Spanish Art Village and entered the main thoroughfare within rock-throwing distance of the Bea Evenson Fountain.
Before buying Nikon Zf in December, I used fixed-lens Leica Q2 for five years (2019-2024) after moving from predecessor Q, which I owned for about 30 months. The Zf promises many similar ergonomic and stylistic benefits, while offering option of interchangeable lenses.
This afternoon, my wife and I stood in line to collect new San Diego Zoo passes; I restarted our resident annual membership, yesterday. Nearly five years have passed since our list visit—July 2020. We stopped because of price increases.
We paid $112 for our annual passes during 2018—for two people. For 2025: $111.60 each, so essentially double the cost seven years ago, with the same basic benefits—such as no blackout dates. However, we benefitted by receiving discounts for being 65 or older and being returning members. Otherwise, the annual pass would have been $134 each.
Someone really needs to correct the sign to the left. Instead of beware, it should read be aware—as in look out for the friendly dog, who just happens to appear to be big and dangerous. He (or she) is a teddy bear—or so seems the demeanor anytime I see him (or her).
He (or she) was so perfectly posed and positioned, between the signs, today, I had to stop and pull around Nikon Zf and attached NIKKOR Z 24-200mm f/4-6.3 VR lens. Vitals for the Featured Image: f/11, ISO 200, 1/160 sec, 59mm; 1:02 p.m. PDT.
We briefly interrupt the backlog to present a valiant orange seen today. Annie spotted the shorthair on a property at Lincoln and Louisiana, which is inches outside the neighborhood’s official boundary. Hence, the honorary designation.
There was a second tabby, this one grey, and they chased one another about. The other disappeared into shrubs, then the space between buildings to the alley behind. The orange followed, moving with the suddenness of a summer storm—that explains choice of nickname Tempest.
He is one of the “Cats of University Heights” and beloved in the neighborhood. Pepto often regards me, approaches with a meow, and keeps on moving. He has things to do and no time for attention.
But today, rarely, he asked for some, and I gave generous pets. After we parted, I stopped aways off and watched him chew grass and soak sunlight. He clearly would soon cross the busy street, and I wanted to make sure he could do so safely.
I (rightly) complain a lot about the insane amount of residential building going on in San Diego—much of it obliterating charming cottages or Craftsman-like homes and greenery galore. (What’s the use of having a backyard for the kids to play when you can build an Accessory Dwelling Unit and rent it, eh?)
That said, the city also is lush, with well-manicured properties packing yard spaces full of flowers, plants, trees, and other natural paraphernalia that add charm and character. Consider the Featured Image, captured two days ago using Nikon Zf and NIKKOR 40mm f/2 (SE) lens, to be representative.
Results of routine bloodwork brought me to walk through Hillcrest today. Along Cleveland Ave., I passed the progressive church with the rainbow doors, where the banner in the Featured Image rather riveted my attention. The congregation is studying fascism for Lent? Not scripture? Not Jesus’ life?
You know what rhymes with Lent? Repent. That would be a great place to start and more scriptural. Fascism studies turns the attention of parishioners to the sins of others when they should be digging up their own and offering them with repentance. What did Jesus say about taking the log out of your own eye before the speck in your brother’s eye?
What do I know about collectibles? Nothing! For months, I have passed by these three, looking out a window onto Monroe Avenue in North Park—and a few blocks beyond my neighborhood of University Heights.
If Google image search has it right, these creatures are part of the Featherly Friends Christmas Collection sold by Target. At least one is from the 2024 edition. I can’t speak to the others.
The third weekend of the month means book sale at the University Heights Public Library. My wife and I traipsed in for a looksee, and I left with two books for a buck a piece. Prized one: The Hugo Winners – Volumes I & II, edited by Isaac Asimov.
We continued along Georgia Avenue to the bridge that overlooks University Avenue. Unexpectedly seen: Hillcrest Farmers Market, which relocated there little more than a month ago. San Diego is converting part of Normal Street, where was the Sunday market, to an outdoor promenade.
A series of storms pelted San Diego County most of this (business) week. Sun would appear between some of them, and winds raged during transitions, too, and throughout some of the heaviest rainfall periods.
Yesterday, during hours of respite, I used Samsung Galaxy S25 Ultra to capture the Featured Image, which didn’t turn out as anticipated. The city road sign, which perched on the corner a day or two earlier, was mostly submerged in a massive puddle. But, somehow, that nuance is lost in this shot and another two (unpublished).