Since this series‘ start in October 2016, I have seen few felines in the alley separating Cleveland and Maryland. Prowler, Spirit, and Tux are the only ones that I recall. On Aug. 14, 2021, my wife and I spotted another perched on a balcony railing—hence nickname Bold.
The Featured Image and companion come from Leica Q2. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 100, 1/180 sec, 28mm; 9:28 a.m. PDT. The other—the context capture—is same but 1/200 sec.
What a surprise is this. While walking in San Diego’s North Park neighborhood today, I spotted the oddest thing: The pictured graphic and text on a utility pole at Monroe and Utah. Is that sign meant to alert Antifa members? During last year’s racial riots and protests, I frequently passed persons all-black-clad—the group’s de facto uniform—hanging about some University Heights streets, presumably waiting for rides. Seeing such scribbling, self-labeled anti-fascists would know where to gather—or maybe the scrawling is nothing more than graffiti.
I used Leica Q2 to capture the Featured Image. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 100, 1/640 sec, 28mm; 2:47 p.m. PDT. In post-production, I over-saturated purple and red; sunlight had faded both colors.
This evening, I turned on Apple Watch Series 5 for the purpose of making the Featured Image—captured using Leica Q2 Monochrom. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/4, ISO 800, 1/125 sec, 28mm; 6:22 p.m. PDT. I hadn’t touched the gadget since putting it in a drawer after taking it off for the last time, on May 31, 2021. The next day, I returned to wearing a mechanical watch—mainly the Luminox Automatic Sport Timer 0921.
I thought that perhaps I might miss the thing, but three months later not the least. Putting aside Apple Watch is a liberating experience. The device constantly distracts, which disrupts short-term memory. Still relevant enough, 11 years later, my missive “Internet Attention Deficit Disorder” is worth a look, on the topic of distraction. Even better, consider book The Shallows: What the Internet is Doing to Our Brains by Nicholas Carr. Just my luck: I bought a digital edition in June 2010; the book was revised last year; and a free update isn’t available.
I can’t say why this motorcycle rapt me enough to take a single shot on Aug. 20, 2021. The iconic, classic-styling only grabbed my attention when processing the Featured Image. For sure, the odd parking […]
While walking along Adams Ave., just past Park Blvd, moving towards the overlook, in University Heights, I passed by an empty glass bottle of Coca-Cola. Oh, hell, why not take a photo? So I turned […]
On the Alabama side of the alley shared with Mississippi, Goose surprised by pussyfooting along a roof and fence before entering eves of a carport. The sighting was chance, as my wife and I walked that way seeking shade. But he wasn’t alone. Goose pursued a stunning shorthair seeking distance in what appeared to be an odd territorial skirmish—strange since he lives elsewhere on the block.
I hadn’t encountered the newcomer before that day, Aug. 4, 2021, or since. Because of the side of alley seen, he (or she) becomes the seventy-first Alabama Street cat—and I wouldn’t be shocked to discover that the beastie belongs somewhere else. For rich fur color, the Siamese earns nickname Mocha.
She has many personalities—a little like her namesake, except they’re all sweetness. Recently, I met her owner, who is a long-time resident of San Diego’s University Heights community. I see Sybil on occasion, and today […]
This must rank as the strangest thing seen in any University Heights yard—and I wonder what is the backstory. Is a harp inside the crate? Was an instrument delivered or waits pick up? Could the rustic box be placed as a lawn ornament, recognizing that no rain is expected to fall in San Diego for months? Surely even empty the wooden container is valuable—for collectible vintage, shipping usability, or both.
My wife and I passed by the crate, earlier today, while walking along Mission near Florida. Later, I left her at our apartment and returned to shoot the Featured Image and companion—both using Leica Q2. Vitals for the first, aperture manually set for both: f/4, ISO 100, 1/250 sec, 28mm; 9:36 a.m. PDT.
From the title, you would think this post is about the pictured kitty. Rather, he is launchpad for a discourse about San Diego real estate. Let’s start with Goldie, whom I profiled as part of my “Cats of University Heights” series in September 2017. The Featured Image is the last portrait I made of him, using Leica Q2, on June 26, 2021. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 100, 1/250 sec, 28mm; 5:26 p.m. PDT.
I continued to see Goldie inside his yard for several more weeks, and I initially thought nothing about there being, as late as early August, no visible activity at the house whatsoever. The place was fairly quiet before the SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 lockdowns brought many parents home and kept kids out of school. My wife and I delighted seeing the youngsters playing outside the home. Then they disappeared, which I attributed to the local, year-round public elementary school reopening.
I shot the Featured Image for two reasons: Surprise to find a French preschool on Park Blvd in downtown University Heights; reminiscence—our daughter nearly attended a public French immersion school when we lived in Maryland. I have often wondered why she failed to make the cut. Could it be that she would enter as a first-grader instead of a kindergartener? Because: She was first on the waiting list, and the administration told us that admission was almost a certainty—some student(s) either dropping out or not showing up were frequent occurrences.
The kids learned English and French side-by-side in a program that lasted through eighth grade. Had Molly been accepted, and had she stayed, our family’s destiny would have changed. We would have unlikely left the Washington, D.C. area and moved across country to San Diego.
I can say with some confidence that this sofa had three cushions a few days before Aug. 19, 2021, when my Leica Q2 captured the Featured Image. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 100, 1/800 […]
The only constant on my street is the rap-rap-racket of new construction—in the alley across the way and a few blocks further where an eight-story multi-residence will fill the space where once stood a church that distributed food to the needy most Fridays. Silent: Birds, squirrels, and other wildlife that lived in the majestic palm that city contractors fell four weeks ago. South American Palm Weevils destroyed the frond crown, killing the tree and posing risk of further infestation along the block.
I don’t know the motivation, but today my neighbor, who lives in the house closest to where the palm stood, planted a collection of succulents where would be the stump (assuming it was covered over rather than removed). People place, or plant, flowers at gravesites—and that’s certainly how I see the location where once towered a mighty wildlife habitat.