Louisiana Street frenemies Ash and Nelson hang out on Jan. 9, 2021. I regretted carrying along Leica Q2 Monochrom, because their portrait would have been so much better in color. Nelson’s orange fur really pops […]
Tag: San Diego
The Cats of University Heights: Majestic
For about two months, I have watched for a feline to appear in a second-floor cat tree. Among the handful of sightings, glass glare from the morning sun made any meaningful portrait majorly difficult to capture. What luck! On April 27, 2021, the beastie materialized in a different window, which also was free from obstruction below. For fixed, rapt gaze, and proud posture, the orange tiger-stripe earns nickname Majestic.
I captured the Featured Image using Leica Q2. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 100, 1/640 sec, 28mm; 9:30 a.m. PDT. Majestic, who is the sixty-sixth kitty seen behind door or window, overlooks the alley separating Alabama and Mississippi between Meade and Monroe.
The Conqueror
The big digger seen at the corner of El Cajon and Mississippi on April 12, 2021 triumphs atop a mountain of dirt upon which once stood three buildings; in San Diego’s University Heights neighborhood. Someday soon, another cathedral of unaffordable housing will rise like the Tower of Babel.
My prediction: Cities all over the country are currently overbuilding to accommodate the massive Millennial population from which fewer babies are being born. Fast forward a decade, perhaps just five years, and rising Baby Boomer deaths coupled with falling birth rates will lead to a glut in housing—particularly multi-family properties. Is this construction site one of many future ghettos?
The Cats of University Heights: Annie
Aged Annie joins the series as the 400th profile since number one on Oct. 17, 2016. I first photographed her on Oct. 7, 2020, but the Featured Image is from Jan. 24, 2021—same day that I shot fallen fronds from the slightly-shaved Bearded Tree, which is now gone. I delayed posting her portrait, hoping to also add her housemate, who is let out (and brought inside) earlier in the morning than I typically meander by the property. The other cat also hides from me among the parked cars.
But considering this milestone post, and deciding which kitty to mark it, sweet, slow Annie had to be the one. Both beasts live on Alabama, making her the 64th featured from the street between boundaries Adams and Lincoln. She resides on the same block as Bella, Fuki, Mane, Mitsie, Mustachio, Peanut, Penny, Rocky, and Schroeder.
The Fence Line
Since shooting the Featured Image on Nov. 11, 2020, I have edited and cropped numerous times, trying to get the right look. Nothing suits me, and I cannot explain reasons for finally publishing other than perhaps good example of failed attempts.
I had hoped the decaying fence, set against shrubs and trees, would produce feeling of being back in another era. Eh, no. The woman’s presence is happenstance, and her contribution to the composition is timeless only because of context: SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 had pretty much everyone wearing masks—nuttily even outdoors. But not this lady, whose uncovered face prevents the moment from being dated.
A Flower Forest
When my wife drove to Hillcrest today on an errand, I asked her to drop me off for a leisurely walk home to University Heights. Along Maryland Street, just beyond where once was the Butterfly […]
The Menacing Palm
The mystery: Is this creature in the tree bark a new addition, or has it been there since Halloween and I hadn’t noticed when walking by dozens of times? One wonders. I captured the Featured […]
The Sweeper
Two days ago, outside the same pharmacy where on March 18, 2021 lay a man death-like, another seemingly street-living gent swept debris and refuse. If only I had context but do not. As my wife and I entered the building, he cleaned up nearby his presumed belongings partially visible in the foreground of the Featured Image. He used a fairly good-condition broom, and there was nearby one of those jumbo, yellow, industrial dustpans—similar to this Quickie model, if not the same one. The well-weathered gentleman moved slowly about his task but deliberately.
When exiting, we could see that the sweeper had moved closer to the street. As we passed, I snapped three quick hip shots, using Leica Q2. This wild portrait is best of the trio. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 100, 1/400 sec, 28mm; 2:32 p.m. PDT.
Do Not Pass Go
I vaguely recall capturing the Featured Image, during my early days with the Olympus PEN E-P1, and being dissatisfied. But in reexamining the photo tonight, something about the juxtaposition of red and blue colors and the odd composition appeals to me. Perhaps there’s some subconscious message blaring from the overly-large STOP. Vitals: f/9, ISO 200, 1/250 sec, 42mm; 6:48 p.m. PDT, July 19, 2009.
I have no idea the exact location other than a reasonable guess of somewhere on the West side of Park Blvd. in San Diego’s University Heights Neighborhood.
Her Heart Soars
As explained nearly three weeks ago, I tend towards thrifty shooting with a digital camera—in this instance Leica Q2. The Featured Image is only one of three captures—the other two at f/5.6 and f/8, with the latter greatly expanding the field of focus. But in the end, wisely or not, I chose the photo made wider open, because of how the painted bricks lead the eyes to the graphic. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/2.8, ISO 100, 1/2500 sec, 28mm; 10:28 a.m. PDT, April 12, 2021. In post-production, I used DxO Perspective Efex to tweak the geometry.
The evening before, I encountered two of my neighbors walking their dog. The husband said that I would want to stop by his house “and bring your camera”. You can see why. The couple live on Meade below Georgia, and they are long-time University Heights residents—about 22 years, if I recall rightly.
The Bearded Tree is Gone!
And that’s not the worst of the devastation. Nearly three months ago, I wondered about the fate of the mighty palm after high winds ripped fronds from the trunk. Then, unexpectedly, on the First Day of Spring, under the direction of cute cottages’ new owners, men with chainsaws started clearcutting a lush landscape of shrubs, succulents, and trees around the buildings. The bearded tree is the last to go.
Every nearby neighbor to whom I have spoken about the destruction of the urban jungle is shocked. No one can fathom why the massive deforestation. Late this afternoon, one homeowner, who has lived in University Heights for more than two decades, told me that water can’t be the reason. He and his wife maintain a lovely backyard of flowers, plants, and trees, without wasteful watering.
If You Work (or Live) Here, I’m Jealous
On the same day, April 11, 2021, that my wife and I walked across the Spruce Street Suspension Bridge, we footed down 1st Avenue towards downtown. We wanted to reminisce about our delightful after-theater walk—planes flying low overhead to land—after watching Jesus Christ Superstar on stage at the San Diego Civic Center. That was Nov. 16, 2019, near the start of the 50th anniversary tour, which SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 lockdowns would end earlier than the planned Aug. 30, 2020 final performance.
At the corner of First and Kalmia, we came across the magnificent structure that is the Featured Image (warning: 30MB file), captured using Leica Q2. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 100, 1/320 sec, 28mm; 12:44 p.m. PDT. I reduced exposure in post-production, should you feel that the photo is too dark; that’s deliberately done.