Tag: nature photography

Photo by Joe WilcoxSep 15, 20219:26 pm

A Macro Moment with Leica Q2

The days are plenty when I consider trading in Leica Q2. Being beholden to a fixed-focal-length lens—even as magnificent as the camera’s 28mm f/1.7 Summilux—is a tradeoff when I can’t get close enough to a subject. But versatility abounds, holding me to the all-in-one shooter—like precise manual focus or Macro mode, which I used to capture the Featured Image. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/4, ISO 100, 1/640 sec, 28mm; 1:16 p.m. PDT.

One of our car‘s windshield wipers broke, so today we drove to the auto-mechanic in San Diego’s Normal Heights neighborhood. The plan: Annie would drive home to University Heights, while I would walk for some extra exercise. I passed by the richly-pigmented orange and yellow flowers about a half block from the service station. The cropped photo is from a single shot taken. Anticipating the light breeze, I held my breath and waited for several seconds of stillness to click the shutter. During post-production, I throttled back the contrast and pulled out the highlights.

Photo by Joe WilcoxSep 8, 20218:30 pm

Desperate Hunter

About a month ago, I heard some commotion a few streets away and a woman yelling loudly to someone else: “It’s a coyote!” The location is far enough away from a canyon to be surprising. Over the weeks that followed, my wife observed occasional Nextdoor posts about additional sightings—mainly between Alabama and Louisiana either along Madison or Mission.

This morning, as Annie and I walked on Louisiana approaching Mission, she spotted a coyote strutting down the sidewalk on the other side of Madison moving towards Adams. We followed. The animal’s left rear leg was clearly injured, and the skinny beast hobbled on the other three. When she first saw the coyote, it was under the magnificent tree that I shared with you in June 2021.

Photo by Joe WilcoxSep 7, 20218:39 pm

Ripe and Ready

Call my obsession with grapes overkill photography, but I must present one last look at the vine located between Campus and Cleveland along Meade in San Diego’s University Heights neighborhood. They’re gone now; someone picked them, or so seems the case.

I worried they would ripen and rot, being located between sidewalk and street rather than on someone’s property. Thankfully, they appear not to have been wasted—like so much other fruit languishing from lush trees outside residences. I don’t understand why. Food is precious, and the berries and citrus that I see requires so little human effort to grow.

Photo by Joe WilcoxAug 25, 20219:06 pm

Flowers for the Urban Landscape

Dentist day is an opportunity to walk home—8.5 kilometers (5.3 miles)—from College Area to University Heights. My wife dropped me and then drove into Mission Valley for some errands. With no cavities, and quick cleaning, I started pounding the pavement within 30 minutes after arriving at the office.

On El Cajon Blvd, approaching 58th Street, I spotted a crimson-colored flowery-plant standing alone along the sidewalk. So out of place in the urban sprawl of retail, traffic, and wayward homeless, the thing demanded being photographed. Before leaving our place, I strongly considered carrying my camera to the dentist but refrained. So iPhone XS produced the Featured Image and companion, instead.

Photo by Joe WilcoxAug 21, 20218:40 pm

A Fitting Tribute

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.

Photo by Joe WilcoxAug 18, 20218:58 pm

They’re Ready for Picking

Perhaps you remember the green grapes from early July that had started ripening red and violet two weeks ago. On Aug. 16, 2021, they had turned deep purple, suggesting to my uniformed eye that they are of the Concord variety and ready to pick. I assume a neighbor planted the vine and that the many clusters won’t be wasted.

Three-quarters of the way through a 6.5-kilometer (4-mile) round-trip walk on an errand to nearby Hillcrest, and carrying Leica Q2 Monochrom, I decided to shoot with street settings rather than go Macro mode. Vitals for the Featured Image: f/5.6, ISO 200, 1/500 sec, 28mm; 3:52 p.m. PDT. I would have preferred color but black and white works, with the berries’ dark hue that also emphasizes dusty particles on the skin.

Photo by Joe WilcoxAug 10, 20218:16 pm

A Splendid Spectacle

Along Georgia, my wife and I walked on the opposite side of the street from where we would normally go when looking for Reddy or Zero—both of which are profiled in my “Cats of University Heights” series. A canopy of green greeted us; one of our neighbors is growing grapes and extended the vines over the sidewalk. What a treat.

The Featured Image shows the vantage as we first saw the splendid spectacle of San Diego gardening. Vitals, aperture manually set for this one and its companion: f/5.6, ISO 100, 1/250 sec, 28mm; 4:02 p.m. PDT, today.

Photo by Joe WilcoxAug 4, 20218:42 pm

How `Bout a Bunch?

The grapes I shared with you one month ago are not the green variety that they appeared to be—as can be seen by their rapid ripening. To reiterate: the cluster is positioned between sidewalk and street, not on someone’s property, along Meade between Cleveland and Maryland in the San Diego neighborhood of University Heights.

Leica Q2 is equipped with a dedicated Macro mode that is enabled by turning a ring around the lens. I used the mechanism to capture the Featured Image and companion. Vitals for the first, aperture manually set for both: f/4, ISO 200, 1/125 sec, 28mm; 9:26 a.m. PDT.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJul 22, 202110:06 am

The Palm Falls

My day started with resolve not to document destruction of the majestic palm infested with South American Palm Weevils—across the street from my home office window. But my wife and I watched the preparation stage, which was the city towing a pickup truck, baring Washington State plates, parked directly beneath the block’s major wildlife habitat.

Soon after, we heard the surprising sound of a chainsaw but could see no lift raised high so that a cutter could sever fronds from the palm’s crown. From a different window, Annie spotted someone working the base of the tree and a rope tied to the top. Then we realized: Rather than the more typical cut-from-the-top-down method, the men approached the project like lumberjacks would back home in Maine.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJul 20, 20218:44 pm

A Bird Poses

I don’t typically shoot bird portraits—yet here is another within three days (remember the seagull). But an unexpected opportunity presented early this evening. As my wife and I walked along Mississippi Street, between Monroe and Meade, in San Diego’s University Heights neighborhood, we came upon a wayward dove (correct my identification if mistaken). It made no attempt to fly off as Annie passed, so I stopped and pulled around Leica Q2.

As the shutter clicked for the first of two shots, I realized that while the electronic viewfinder presented a green outlined box indicating focus the bird was blurry. Ditto for the second (half-press), so with the dove staying still, I turned the camera’s manual focus ring and produced the Featured Image (do click the link see this one bigger).

Photo by Joe WilcoxJul 19, 202110:10 pm

A Tree’s Reprieve

The majestic palm infested with South American Palm Weevils did not come down today as planned. Tree cutters arrived around 7 a.m. PDT—four vehicles, which included lift and shredder. But the workers met an obstacle—a lone car curbed below the palm and smack beneath the sign warning: “No Parking, Tree Removal, 7-19-21, 7 a.m. to 5 p.m.” Two hours later, with no one come to move the auto and tow-truck unavailable, the frustrated tree-cutter chief abandoned the project for another. He told me that his crew couldn’t return any sooner than Wednesday (July 21), because of other commitments.

When departing, he removed the signs, which is why you don’t see any in the Featured Image taken at 11:10 a.m., using iPhone XS. Vitals: f/1.8, ISO 25, 1/2257 sec, 26mm (film equivalent). When I returned from a walk, about 12:30 p.m., someone had placed new “No Parking” signs for the 22nd.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJul 18, 20219:41 pm

A Beloved Tree’s Last Day

One of our apartment’s main benefits: Abundance of urban wildlife visible from expansive windows. Directly across the street from my home office is a magnificent palm tree that is the block’s primary animal habitat. Dozens of birds, of various ilks, fly up into crevices throughout daylight hours all year long. Remember: San Diego is a climate of three Summer seasons: Early, Mid, and Late. Squirrels scurry up the trunk, chasing one another. Who knows what else lives there? Tomorrow, the city plans to remove the tree. I understand the reason but hate it.

According to University California San Diego, invasive, deadly South American Palm Weevils were “first detected in March 2016″—that’s locally. But agricultural experts identified the beetles’ encroachment along the Mexican border five years earlier. The insects essentially infest the heart of the palm crown, destroying it. The bad news from arborists Coastal Tree Care: “When left undetected, this damage is irreversible and will leave you with no choice but to remove your palm trees”. Judging from the topless trees I see in some of the canyons, and the speed with which the weevils appear to spread, infected trees must be destroyed as soon as they show symptoms. A month ago, the palm across the street looked normally healthy. No longer.