We make another boundary breach into neighboring North Park and sighting of a timid tabby. My wife saw this fine feline first, on Arizona Street, which is one block outside of University Heights. Synonym for shy is Mousy, which is appropriate nickname for other obvious reasons.
I used Samsung Galaxy S24 Ultra to capture the Featured Image, on March 10, 2024. Vitals: f/3.4, ISO 32, 1/160, (synthetic) 230mm (digital and optical zoom); 10:18 a.m. PDT.
The day’s mild weather got me looking at past outdoor photos of people gathered together. The Featured Image is a discard for post “Bluegrass and Monochrome“. The close-crop comes from Leica Q2 Monochrom on July 22, 2022. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/4, ISO 200, 1/160 sec, 28mm; 7:33 p.m. PDT.
Setting: Old Trolley Barn Park in San Diego neighborhood University Heights. The community sponsors a concert series for four Fridays every summer—but interrupted during SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 restrictions.
Among the many benefits of Leica Q2, or any camera from the series, are dedicated manual focus and macro modes—activated by turning dedicated rings around the lens barrel. I used the latter feature when taking the Featured Image and companion, which were close-cropped in post-production.
I captured the pair yesterday. Vitals, aperture manually set for both: f/4, ISO 100, 1/1250 sec, 28mm; 4:27 p.m. PDT. The second is the same but 1/1600 sec, two minutes later.
Another day, another cloud formation looms. Because of forecast Santa Ana winds blowing from the East and bringing warmer temperatures, I started the morning wearing shorts. One walk later, and I had donned blue jeans. Brrr. Yes, wind whipped but chilly.
Mid-afternoon, unforecasted heavy rain—and hail—fell with a vengeance. Sitting in the cozy, comfortable backseat of our car, reading, I enjoyed the fierce torrent from Mother Nature. (What was she so mad about?) You wonder: Why use the vehicle like a public library? Warmth and quiet.
This evening, I turned Leica Q2 Monochrom West to catch the setting sun sky. I wondered what would come out of a black-and-white shot and what could be made during post-production. The Featured Image is the result. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/8, ISO 200, 1/100 sec, 28mm; 6:49 p.m. PDT.
I am no landscape photographer, just someone having fun with a camera—and marking a personally meaningful moment. The view is from the front steps to our apartment building and the sky visible from my home office.
This afternoon, my wife and I walked by the alley house where we sometimes see Steppy. Not only was the Tux there but another scruffy kitty ate from his (or her) food dish. While I pulled out Samsung Galaxy S24 Ultra, the cat finished eating and moved off when seeing me set up the shot.
For fur color that looks like its dirty (and isn’t), this fine feline earns nickname Scuff. I have passed by Steppy often over the years. Occasionally, Pepto ventures into the alley. But Scuff is a first-sighting.
If buzz is the measure of success, Fujifilm X100VI is camera of the year. Reviewers swoon, sales soar, and an order backlog means some people will wait until summer to get one—if not longer. The fixed-lens compact’s predecessor has been hard to come by for ages, in part because of adoption and hype by social media influencers.
The same crowd is gaga for the sixth shooter in the series. For the record, I wouldn’t buy one—and content creator crazies rank as my top reason. I love this series of cameras and owned several of them, starting with the original, X100, back in the ancient year of 2011. I also acquired later variants X100T and X100F. But something about the thing being a fad—and Fuji catering to the clamoring mob—kills the allure.
I will refrain from complaining about today’s change to Daylight Saving Time and instead focus on the Featured Image, which is the first of four hipshots taken this morning using Leica Q2. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/8, ISO 100, 1/200 sec, 28mm; 11:30 a.m. PDT. Composed as captured; presented to keep the sign in frame.
I passed quite the commotion outside the brewery/eatery located at Park Blvd and Madison. A long line of people waited for service—these were regularly dressed folks. A line of bicycles parked nearby, with riders outfitted for the road. For context: I talked on the phone to one of my sisters when walking by; every conversation eventually defaults to Dad’s decline.
Perhaps we should save Samsung’s AI-driven colorization capability for older black and white photos, for which more can be forgiven. In the Gallery app on Galaxy S24 Ultra, I converted a more modern shot to color and the result, while not bad, isn’t good.
Look at the Featured Image and observe the green nose of the woman next to Odi, for example.
Two days a week, a food truck selling—you guessed it—vegan street food sets up on the North Park side of Texas. Across El Cajon Blvd on the University Heights side of the street is McDonald’s for anyone craving carb-and-protein-rich alternatives, like Big Mac.
I have yet to get a good shot of the truck, mainly because of vehicular obstructions. The sign has been challenging, too, but I got a singular opportunity on Dec. 8, 2023. The Featured Image comes from Leica Q2. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/1.7, ISO 100, 1/5000 sec, 28mm; 11:57 a.m. PST.
Across San Diego County, more than 145 drop boxes are placed to receive ballots, which California mailed to all registered voters. Today, the state held primary elections, including President of the United States. Fifteen other states commenced primaries on this Super Tuesday.
My wife and I unexpectedly used a drop box, rather than continue our customary practice of voting in person. Annie felt poorly, and I am juggling family matters. We don’t expect Dad to live through the week. But he is still conscious and cognizant, receives visitors (whoa, the county sheriff, among many others), or makes and receive phone calls. But Dad’s strength and vitality ebb away, and his decline increases. My sister was right urging us both to fly to Maine—she from Florida—over the weekend of Feb. 16, 2024.
During the SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 lockdowns, my wife and I let expire our membership to San Diego Zoo. Reason: Hefty price increases.
For example, we paid $112 annually for a residential 2-adult pass six years ago, with no blackout dates. I grumbled when the price jumped to $149. In 2024, one-forty-nine is the cost for one adult membership, with blackout dates. Meaning: Twice as much, with restrictions, compared to five years ago. Ah, yeah.