Tag: Leica Q2

Photo by Joe WilcoxApr 18, 20229:52 pm

Caution, Caterpillar Crossing

Outside the home where lived Grace (before she passed away) and nearby where once crouched Champagne, chalked caution and watch out warnings seek to raise caterpillar awareness. Both putty-tats appeared in my “Cats of University Heights” series—in April 2018 and February 2021, respectively.

The husband and wife who own the property tend flowers and flora that attract butterflies and caterpillars. I often see Monarchs fluttering about. Spring—or in San Diego three-season parlance, early Summer—is breeding and feeding time. So, please, be mindful where you step.

Photo by Joe WilcoxApr 17, 20229:29 pm

Hungry Bunny

The menacing palm dons the season’s appropriate attire. Perhaps you remember his “Be Mine” Valentine or “Uncle Sam” glam for Fourth of July? He is a grim Easter Bunny, stretching out arms in an embrace that I wouldn’t take. You?

Maybe rather than give out candy, he sees you as the cream-filled treat. So don’t be fooled by the cute ears. The teeth! Look at the teeth.

Photo by Joe WilcoxApr 16, 20229:10 pm

Doggone Fun

At the corner where University Heights ends and North Park begins, my wife and I waited to walk across El Cajon Blvd. I turned to see a car come up Texas Street to the intersection; a big `ol dog hung out the window. I pulled around Leica Q2 for a quick shot, not wanting to draw the attention of the driver and possibly to offend him.

The Featured Image is about a 95 percent crop, which deliberately includes price of gasoline—down from a high of $5.96 per gallon as recently as last week at this station and others around my San Diego neighborhood. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/8, ISO 100, 1/500 sec, 28mm; 11:38 a.m. PDT, today.

Photo by Joe WilcoxApr 13, 20228:02 pm

Mystic Mocha Marketing

One of University Height’s fixtures is Mystic Mocha, which through change of ownership survived the SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 shutdowns mandated by California Governor Gavin Newsom and also San Diego County health authorities.

Today, as my wife and I walked by the place, we happened upon a sign at the corner of Alabama and Mission. I pulled around Leica Q2, knelt down low, and shot the Featured Image. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/8, ISO 100, 1/320 sec, 28mm; 11:39 a.m. PDT.

Photo by Joe WilcoxApr 11, 202210:46 pm

Where the Monks Live

Nested among commercial cathedrals to alcohol and hedonism is the Hsi Fang Temple on Park Blvd in University Height’s main business district. The location is prime real estate that developers drool over, and it’s a spiritual stakeholder among one of the many San Diego communities where Christianity is in decline (see my missive “Is God Inclusive?” for perspective on that values topic).

I occasionally will see Buddhist monks, dressed in their more traditional garb, walking about UH. They are in some ways the biggest reminder of the temple’s presence, in part because the building, while massive, is unpretentious. Street-facing Buddha’s Light Bookstore might draw more attention if open more hours (website says Wednesday evenings and 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. on weekends).

Photo by Joe WilcoxApr 10, 202210:23 pm

Pop Goes Another Housing Bubble

The current housing bubble—and there absolutely is one—bears only modest resemblance to the previous catastrophe, which I warned about in a lengthy August 2005 analysis. Rising mortgage rates already are deflating the 2020’s-decade bubble, but the pop is unavoidable without fundamental changes in the actual market or the myths used to explain existing dynamics.

Since before anyone heard of SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19, which economic and societal disruption super-inflated the housing bubble, I had warned about a dangerous trend that ignores common sense observation of national demographics: Among the two largest segments, Baby Boomers are dying off and Millennials aren’t having many kids. As population growth stalls, there will be less demand for housing because there will be fewer people to buy. Meaning: All the babbling about not enough inventory has set into motion an overbuilding frenzy that is sure to deflate home values in the not-so-distant future. Before pandemic lockdowns, I had thought within 10 years. I now expect less than five—if we’re lucky.

Photo by Joe WilcoxApr 8, 20228:20 pm

The Abandoned

Weather forecast of searing heat inspired me to take a long walk this morning before temperature rose—and it did, eventually reaching 35.5 degrees Celsius (96 F) in my San Diego neighborhood of University Heights. I mostly stayed in the alleys, where buildings’ shadows offered some relief. In the one separating Campus and Cleveland, I came upon a hapless plant, beret of pot.

What you don’t see in the Featured Image—and what I should have captured—is the back passenger tire of a Honda SUV. That precarious placement is what initially drew my attention to the neglected thing. Presumably, someone left out the item as a freebee. Perhaps languished from the second day’s unseasonable scorcher, or already ailing, the wilted plant appealed much less than its pot. Hence the presumed abandonment.

Photo by Joe WilcoxApr 7, 20228:52 pm

You Are Nobody

Yesterday, after photographing the bicycle traffic light, I continued along University Avenue in San Diego’s Hillcrest neighborhood before stopping to wonder at the mural that is the Featured Image and companion. The first hugs cross-street Sixth and the second is along the main throughway.

Is this who we are after two years of masking during the SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 crisis? Faceless? So stripped of humanity to be utterly featureless, without even eyes? Whatever the artist’s intent, I see an overt—not even hidden—message: You are nobody. In a society where even gender is disputed, maybe no identity is the only rendition to depict.

Photo by Joe WilcoxApr 6, 20227:57 pm

Traffic Rules Apply to Bikes, Too

San Diego is embarked on the Herculean task of creating new bike lanes—and they’re seemingly everywhere in Hillcrest, North Park, and University Heights. Today, while standing at Fifth and University avenues, I saw something surprising that probably shouldn’t be: Traffic lights for riders. In a community culture where bikers barrel through intersections like they own the right of way, the city seeks to tame them to the same rules that everyone else abides by.

Hell, yeah. Hey, Two-Wheeler, someone saved your life. Thank them.

Photo by Joe WilcoxApr 1, 20228:43 pm

For Their Grandma

While walking across the Vermont Street Bridge, which separates University Heights from Hillcrest, I came upon three women—two of which posed for the other. I gladly waited. When I passed, one of the ladies asked me to take a photo of all three. Of course. She handed me an iPhone, and the trio huddled together.

We then talked for as much as 10 minutes (I really should shut up), and they told me about their reminiscing adventure. Sixty years ago—a number/timeframe repeated several times—they would visit their grandmother, who lived on Johnson Street, which is on the UH side of the bridge. The then-girls were from Northern California, and their mom would “ship” them down to San Diego whenever another “was born”.

Photo by Joe WilcoxMar 29, 20229:35 pm

Thunderbird and Chair

The Featured Image is example of a failed photo. I used Leica Q2 to capture the moment on Oct. 15, 2021 and held back sharing because the composition doesn’t work, whether cropped or as shot. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/8, ISO 100, 1/80 sec, 28mm; 4:32 p.m. PDT.

When stopping to look at the crusty chair, abandoned in a University Heights alley, I thought it would nicely juxtapose with the classic car—both being vintage. My mistake.

Photo by Joe WilcoxMar 28, 202210:19 pm

Ten Years with Neko

On this day in 2012, my wife and I brought home the ginger that the County of San Diego Animal Services called Dermott. We renamed him Neko, which is Japanese for cat. The shelter took him in on February 15. We would have first seen him on either the 18th or 25th; I don’t recall which but am confident a Saturday. Because he was so handsome, we were surprised to see him on subsequent visits.

Our Maine Coon mix, Kuma, disappeared on January 15. After city workers recovered his collar in a nearby canyon, we had to assume that a coyote took him. But being ever hopeful not, I checked the shelter website most evenings and we walked through the facility every few days looking. All the while, Dermott remained unclaimed, and we soon learned why.