Along Park Blvd, barely outside my San Diego neighborhood of University Heights, is a church I hadn’t stopped to regard—until yesterday. I simply don’t walk that way often enough to have noticed the stately structure.
Near as I can gather from the official website, Grace Lutheran is a family-oriented, traditional Christian church located in an area where other places of worship cater more to the licentious, cultural mob than to God.
The Featured Image is more brooding than it needs to be, but the mood remembers what was—and thankfully—what is gone. From before our October 2007 relocation to San Diego until September 2015, The Crypt—a goth, fetish, sadomasochist, sex shop—occupied the corner retail space at Park Blvd and University Avenue. The place closed for failure to pay rent.
The storefront stayed vacant—cursed, if you ask me—for another almost six years. MJ’s Cyclery is the current tenant; refreshing change, too. As the city removes motorized vehicle parking spaces to make more bike lanes, lifestyle and sales opportunities open up for cycle shops.
Four years ago, I shared with you shots of lively lilacs along a wall here in my San Diego neighborhood of University Heights. What those photos lacked was context, which the Featured Image gives quite dramatically.
This afternoon, while talking to one of my sisters by phone, I came upon a young woman shooting photos of something behind me. I turned to see. Lilacs. Sis loves lilacs. So I pulled out Samsung Galaxy S24 Ultra, pointed, clicked, and texted. She was delighted.
So-o-o-o, tonight, I sit at my desk participating in a meeting over Zoom, with 15 other people, and suddenly startle looking out my office window. A rocket rises upwards in the Western sky from Vandenberg Space Force Base, and I so want to be outside with camera in hand.
Two problems: I can’t politely leave, and the thing rises really fast; this isn’t like the slower-moving Alpha that I watched in September 2023. I rudely turn off video, pull out Samsung Galaxy S24 Ultra, snap shots (three total), and resume video. The Featured Image is best of the trio.
We make another boundary breach into neighboring North Park and sighting of a timid tabby. My wife saw this fine feline first, on Arizona Street, which is one block outside of University Heights. Synonym for shy is Mousy, which is appropriate nickname for other obvious reasons.
I used Samsung Galaxy S24 Ultra to capture the Featured Image, on March 10, 2024. Vitals: f/3.4, ISO 32, 1/160, (synthetic) 230mm (digital and optical zoom); 10:18 a.m. PDT.
The day’s mild weather got me looking at past outdoor photos of people gathered together. The Featured Image is a discard for post “Bluegrass and Monochrome“. The close-crop comes from Leica Q2 Monochrom on July 22, 2022. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/4, ISO 200, 1/160 sec, 28mm; 7:33 p.m. PDT.
Setting: Old Trolley Barn Park in San Diego neighborhood University Heights. The community sponsors a concert series for four Fridays every summer—but interrupted during SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 restrictions.
Among the many benefits of Leica Q2, or any camera from the series, are dedicated manual focus and macro modes—activated by turning dedicated rings around the lens barrel. I used the latter feature when taking the Featured Image and companion, which were close-cropped in post-production.
I captured the pair yesterday. Vitals, aperture manually set for both: f/4, ISO 100, 1/1250 sec, 28mm; 4:27 p.m. PDT. The second is the same but 1/1600 sec, two minutes later.
Another day, another cloud formation looms. Because of forecast Santa Ana winds blowing from the East and bringing warmer temperatures, I started the morning wearing shorts. One walk later, and I had donned blue jeans. Brrr. Yes, wind whipped but chilly.
Mid-afternoon, unforecasted heavy rain—and hail—fell with a vengeance. Sitting in the cozy, comfortable backseat of our car, reading, I enjoyed the fierce torrent from Mother Nature. (What was she so mad about?) You wonder: Why use the vehicle like a public library? Warmth and quiet.
This evening, I turned Leica Q2 Monochrom West to catch the setting sun sky. I wondered what would come out of a black-and-white shot and what could be made during post-production. The Featured Image is the result. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/8, ISO 200, 1/100 sec, 28mm; 6:49 p.m. PDT.
I am no landscape photographer, just someone having fun with a camera—and marking a personally meaningful moment. The view is from the front steps to our apartment building and the sky visible from my home office.
This afternoon, my wife and I walked by the alley house where we sometimes see Steppy. Not only was the Tux there but another scruffy kitty ate from his (or her) food dish. While I pulled out Samsung Galaxy S24 Ultra, the cat finished eating and moved off when seeing me set up the shot.
For fur color that looks like its dirty (and isn’t), this fine feline earns nickname Scuff. I have passed by Steppy often over the years. Occasionally, Pepto ventures into the alley. But Scuff is a first-sighting.
If buzz is the measure of success, Fujifilm X100VI is camera of the year. Reviewers swoon, sales soar, and an order backlog means some people will wait until summer to get one—if not longer. The fixed-lens compact’s predecessor has been hard to come by for ages, in part because of adoption and hype by social media influencers.
The same crowd is gaga for the sixth shooter in the series. For the record, I wouldn’t buy one—and content creator crazies rank as my top reason. I love this series of cameras and owned several of them, starting with the original, X100, back in the ancient year of 2011. I also acquired later variants X100T and X100F. But something about the thing being a fad—and Fuji catering to the clamoring mob—kills the allure.
I will refrain from complaining about today’s change to Daylight Saving Time and instead focus on the Featured Image, which is the first of four hipshots taken this morning using Leica Q2. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/8, ISO 100, 1/200 sec, 28mm; 11:30 a.m. PDT. Composed as captured; presented to keep the sign in frame.
I passed quite the commotion outside the brewery/eatery located at Park Blvd and Madison. A long line of people waited for service—these were regularly dressed folks. A line of bicycles parked nearby, with riders outfitted for the road. For context: I talked on the phone to one of my sisters when walking by; every conversation eventually defaults to Dad’s decline.