This afternoon, while walking along an alley in our neighborhood of University Heights, my wife expressed delight seeing some dog art hanging from a fence door. I initially passed by the display, then thought that her reaction deserved acknowledgement.
So I pulled out Samsung Galaxy S24 Ultra and took four quickies of varying compositions. The Featured Image is the best for presenting singly. Vitals: f/1.7, ISO 12, 1/1050 sec, 23mm (film equivalent); 2:18 p.m. PDT.
Crime is on the rise in San Diego. News reports, social media posts, and street talk among neighbors all spotlight an increasing trend. Porch pirates are commonplace. Shoplifters compel retailers to lock up sundry staples like batteries and toothpaste. Armed robberies, burglaries, and debit card skimming also appear to be on the rise.
So I suppose today’s incident here in University Heights shouldn’t surprise anyone. Late morning, my wife and I walked over to a parallel street, where we came upon a police car and our mail carrier speaking with someone who turned out to be his supervisor. Busted window and glass on the pavement revealed what happened.
I ignored today’s solar eclipse, which was nowhere near totality here in San Diego. Had we moved home to Maine as planned last year, well my interest would be—sincerely, ignore the pun—astronomical. While local and national news honed on Houlton, my hometown Caribou was in the path of totality.
That topic dispatched, let’s move on to the Featured Image. Late afternoon, I discovered a bug behind the bathroom door. Black color and white striations suggested spider; any eight-legger gets a free pass in this household; spiders aren’t pests, they’re pest control.
Our first feline of the month also claims Caturday number one. I walked by this kitty on March 31, 2024, along an undisclosed street West of Park Blvd. The shorthair had been watching birds, but briefly turned my way for the Featured Image, which was captured using Samsung Galaxy S24 Ultra. Vitals: f/3.4, ISO 50, 1/120 sec, (synthetic) 230mm (digital and optical zoom); 11:07 a.m. PDT.
For nickname, how about Kiko, which is Hawaiian for spot—or so claims Google Translate. Kiko is the one-hundred-twenty-seventh beastie found behind door or window since the series‘ start in October 2016.
While black-and-white photography might seem, ah, colorless, it is striking coming from Leica Q2 Monochrom. Take, for example, the Featured Image, which is sharp edge to edge. Pixel-peepers, please, go for it—and to assist you the companion capture is a close-crop for your perusal.
Vitals, aperture manually set: f/8, ISO 200, 1/160 sec, 28mm; 2:31 p.m. PDT, April 2, 2024. The original is composed as shot. Venue: Lafayette, the recently remodeled, iconic hotel located in my San Diego neighborhood of University Heights.
When deciding whether to move from the Galaxy S23 Ultra to its S24 successor, I wondered if Samsung’s iterative design would be better enough. Yes! Display’s reduced reflectivity, 2600-nit screen brightness outdoors, insanely long battery life, and Galaxy AI are among the refinements that matter. That said, I am most satisfied with the photography experience.
Colors are less saturated and more accurate. Photos are no longer over-sharpened and, related, they are more natural looking. Clarity is improved, and often shots satisfy straight from the smartphone—little to no editing required. The Featured Image is an example.
With increasing mayhem—everything from armed robbery to migrant mischief to unpredictable homeless encounters—self-protection gurus council people, particularly among vulnerable populations like older folks, to practice situational awareness. Stated simply: Pay attention to your surroundings.
Most people are clueless, at least around my San Diego neighborhood. Every day, I see dozens and dozens of folks, many of them walking dogs, wearing Apple AirPods—and thus tuning out by tuning in, so to speak. They don’t pay attention—as they should, if for no other reason than the increased amount of traffic precipitated by increased population density. Previously quiet streets suddenly are quite congested.
Strange: I have walked through this intersection countless times over the years and only today recognized the anomalous road sign(s). In the Featured Image, bikers are given distances to destinations that are behind them—meaning where they came from. In the companion capture, of the sign on the other side of the roundabout, information is accurate for everyone riding East towards Normal Heights.
Ah, yeah. Maybe you are unfamiliar with the area and turned onto Meade from a perpendicular street a few blocks away. Based on the first sign, you would be mislead to think that you’re eight-tenths of a mile (1.29 kilometers) from University Heights. The Meade-Utah traffic circle is often nasty with cars, so a biker paying attention to incoming vehicles could easily miss the second sign.
Sightings are fairly rare along Cleveland Ave., which makes finding this timid tabby on the same day as Lavish so unexpected. The Featured Image comes from Samsung Galaxy S24 Ultra. Vitals: f/3.4, ISO 32, 1/350 sec, (synthetic) 230mm (digital and optical zoom); 9:46 a.m. PDT, Feb. 24, 2024.
For flora along the porch rails, this fine feline earns nickname Ivy.
Words that describe San Diego: Character, personality, variety. The Featured Image and companions are examples. This charming display is more elaborate and expansive than the photos reveal. The property sits at Howard and Hamilton in North Park.
But change is afoot. Recent public policy push to add more residences—by way of so-called Accessory Dwelling Units (ADUs) and high-rises, often where were single-family homes—transforms the look and feel of many neighborhoods. BLVD North Park and Winslow are examples of the new architectural artifices.
Because Cali overtook my lap—and I let her—posting is later than planned and topic changed. Please pardon another black-and-white Featured Image—from Leica Q2 Monochrom. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/4.5, ISO 200, 1/3200 sec, 28mm; 1:01 p.m. PDT, March 26, 2024. Composed as captured.
I came upon the doll and collection of reference books—put out free for the taking—while walking along Madison Ave within the corridor where North Park wedges between San Diego neighborhoods Normal Heights and University Heights.
This morning, my wife and I visited with the owner of Guido and Little and long-lost neighborhood favorite Bruce; all three appear in my “Cats of University Heights” series. Meanwhile, despite her disconcertion, tree cutters ravaged her rental property’s plants and trees; landlord’s doing.
Chitchat bounced about topics and somehow trapsed upon payphones—or the lack of them; their disappearance. Coincidentally, on March 26, 2024, I photographed the remanent of one in black and white at the corner of Howard and 30th in North Park.