For cultural reasons that I don’t understand, Halloween is a big holiday in San Diego. Decorations are everywhere adorning homes and lawns. That’s not enough for some people, as this grim ghoulmobile demonstrates.
The thing spooked from the space adjacent to mine in the Mission Valley Costco parking lot. Proximity made no good way to photograph the entire machine. So I fumbled for composition and ambience, using iPhone XS.
The main intersection on the neighborhood’s west side is a four-way with stop-signs at Cleveland and Meade. I meandered upon this kitty and the next one profiled on either side of Meade in the alley between Cleveland and Maryland—directions south and north, respectively.
I used iPhone XS to capture the Featured Image on Oct. 17, 2020. Vitals: f/2.4, ISO 16, 1/213 sec, 52mm (film equivalent); 10:21 a.m. PDT. Coincidentally, the day marked the series‘ fourth anniversary.
Surely you’ve come across something and wondered: “How long has that been there?” That is the question I asked on Oct. 6, 2020, while walking down the alley behind Kairoa Brewing Co., which is located along the main commercial area of San Diego’s University Heights neighborhood. The Featured Image is what I saw on the establishment’s rear door, where I presume supplies are unloaded. What does that image bring to your mind?
For me, the goats (or are they rams) immediately flash subliminal recollection, but not something precisely recalled. Looking at the beasts—bathed in blood red, so to speak, with their pointy horns—elicits creepy feeling that I have seen them before. In a horror movie perhaps—something like a “Constantine” or one of the three original “The Omen” films (1976, 1978, 1981). But somewhere. You do know that, biblically and mythologically, goats are associated with symbols of the devil?
Four years ago today, I started this series with a presumed stray, sighted only once, that I call Scruffy. Three-hundred-fifty-eight profiles later, the number of furballs to photograph is seemingly inexhaustible. At the start, I expected the series to progress a month, maybe a little longer. Foolish me. In autumn 2016, as explained in post “Why Cats?“, I worked with new eyes, so to speak, following multifocal intraocular lens replacement for cataracts and also ongoing treatment for macular edema—the latter of which is mostly now resolved. Feline field photography acted as a kind of visual therapy.
That brings us to our celebratory kitty, seen in the yard of the home where once lived Giotto and next-door to where you can find Petri (well, until his family moves sometime before Dec. 1, 2020). That makes the black the fifty-seventh putty-tat from Alabama between boundaries Adams and Lincoln. No other street comes close, and I cannot fathom why.
On the same block where lives Daniel Tiger, whom I visited with today, incidentally, resides newcomer Pepto—and, yes, that’s his real name. Within furball spitting distance, you also could encounter: Fluffy, Darth Mew, Ginger, Huck, Jedi, Milo, and Princess Leia—or Snow and Stripe, looking out windows. The block bustles with frisky felines, and it’s a wonder they all tolerate one another so well.
I first saw two-year-old Pepto in early August 2020 and used iPhone XS to shoot a dozen portraits—none of which I would use unless compelled by lack of having anything better. Opportunity presented on September 8, when I lugged Leica Q2, seeking the orange and white for the umpteenth time. The Featured Image is a close crop. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 100, 1/125 sec, 28mm; 4:54 p.m. PDT.
Among the 355 other profiles in this series, seven were seen or live beyond the neighborhood’s designated boundaries. Mona—and that’s her real name—makes eight. She joins special members: Buddies, Chill, Envy, Moophie, Ninja, Promise, and Sammy. My wife and I met the kitty and her owner while walking home from Smart and Final on Sept. 22, 2020—along Mississippi, before Lincoln leaves behind North Park.
I used iPhone XS to capture the Featured Image, at 9:39 a.m. PDT. Vitals: f/2.4, ISO 16, 1/177 sec, 52mm (film equivalent).
Today, while driving home from Costco Business Center, I encountered an animal control vehicle pulled over in my lane by Alice Birney Elementary School, along Meade. I U-turned and circled back wondering if someone had come to (gulp) take away the remains of the ginger that had been mysteriously hanging out along the grass-way and among the parked cars. Mysteriously, because the facility is closed in response to SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)—also known as COVID-19—and there are no homes along that side of the stretch of street. So why would the shorthair make its home territory there?
As I approached again, the kitty could be seen sitting in the grass along the side of the building—that is until being approached by the cat catcher. The beast tried to flee as I drove past. Was he caught? I was just relieved that he hadn’t been run over, like another ginger near the same location a few weeks earlier. Curiosity moved me to action, and I walked back to the school expecting to find nothing more than a fleeting feline memory. But no! The beastie was there, returned to the grass, head turned away from me, licking legion or, more likely, wound—from the capture-attempt, perhaps?
The fourth anniversary of this series is in 11 days, and like last year I consider closing up. So as the seventeenth approaches, expect to see a rush release of kitties photographed but not yet profiled. We continue with the second consecutive alley cat. Spur was the first, sighted behind Alabama and Florida. Another black shorthair, in the alley along Alabama and Mississippi, is next—earning nickname Charger. Sigh, if only the feline had allowed me to read the ID tag.
I used iPhone XS to capture the Featured Image on Sept. 17, 2020 at 8:33 a.m. PDT. Vitals: f/24, ISO 16, 1/84 sec, 52mm (film equivalent). The portrait is converted to black and white, which diminishes delightful, but distracting, plants and shrubs.
Finally. After SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)—also known as COVID-19—restrictions shut down playgrounds across San Diego County in mid-March 2020, they reopened on October 2. Strange juxtaposition? Same day, the President of the United States was admitted to Walter Reed Army Medical Center, after testing positive for the disease. What’s that saying about coincidental timing? If there is one.
Along with the playgrounds, public libraries reopened—and the timing is quite deliberate. California has started sending out mail-in ballots for the November 3 election (we received ours yesterday). Drop boxes will be placed in libraries.
The third-in-a-row Alabama Street furball—and fifty-sixth for the series seen between boundaries Adams and Lincoln—follows Speckle and Whiskers. At least two more Bama beasties that I have observed, but not yet photographed, are likely coming soon. The shorthair looks down into the alley at the back of the building, where also live Mao and maybe Dizzy, whom I haven’t seen since before the SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)—also known as COVID-19—pandemic started.
The portrait of this black, who earns nickname Spur, won’t win any awards. Sometimes you go with what you got, not what you wish you had taken. I used iPhone XS to capture the Featured Image on Sept. 18, 2020 at 8:53 a.m. PDT. Vitals: f/2.4, ISO 16, 1/3690 sec, 52mm (film equivalent).
How did we get to 352 profiles without using Whiskers as a nickname? It’s taken now, but I wish the kitty would have let me get close enough to see its tag. Whiskers is the fifty-fifth feline from Alabama between boundaries Adams and Lincoln. There are even more coming to the series, and I remain flummoxed about the number compared to every other street in the neighborhood. Concentration of multi-unit residences is the only explanation that makes any sense. BTW, do look back for an exciting update about another Alabama kitty: Pace (pronounced paw-chay).
My wife spotted Whiskers as we walked from Smart and Final on Sept. 18, 2020. I used iPhone XS to capture the Featured Image. Vitals: f/2.4, ISO 16, 1/262 sec, 52mm (film equivalent); 9:06 a.m. PDT.
In a pandemic-stricken economy of soaring unemployment and where small businesses fall like dominos—and more risk toppling because of California Governor Gavin “Gruesome” Newsom’s restrictive lockdown orders—you might expect the housing market to reflect real-world woes. Oddly, though, the median sale price of homes in metro San Diego is a record high of $665,000, according to data collected by Redfin. That’s a 13-percent year-over-year increase, as of Sept. 6, 2020. County-wide, according to the California Association of Realtors, median home price is $732,560, and that’s up 13 percent from August 2019.
My neighborhood, University Heights, reflects the trend—with emphasis. Searching Trulia and Zillow, the bargain-basement-priced listing is a single-bedroom, one-bath, 576-square-foot condominium in a three-story complex looking into an open courtyard. You can live there for $299,900, or $521 per square foot. If that’s too small, how about a cozy two-bed, two-bath, 726-square-foot condo for $415,000; $572 per square foot? Both places are indistinguishable from any apartment for rent; maybe not as good-looking.