Perhaps you recall, from January 2021, the impromptu, Italiano, unshelled peanut diner nearby the home of Bruce, Guido, and Little—all of which appear in my “Cats of University Heights” series? Today, after seeing Halloween signage on the tree, I stopped with Leica Q2 for a quickie.
Coming up the sidewalk, beautifully blurred, a squirrel approaches. The rodent cares nothing about stinky feet but the treat that waits above the skeleton. Go for it, buddy.
Pop-up homeless shelters are increasingly common sights around San Diego, spurred by devastating rents (e.g., many people can’t afford them) and, on Sept. 30, 2022, the end of SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19-era eviction moratoriums. Many encampments are hidden away—or, when not, part of a larger grouping; the idea being safety in numbers protects against law enforcement or outraged, eh, housed residents.
So I was surprised, on October 15, to find this publicly placed standalone habitat at Georgia and Howard in University Heights. Climb the brick wall to the right and you will come out in the Sprouts market parking lot. Public library is on the same block.
Five days ago, while walking through San Diego district Hillcrest, I passed a gent reading a newspaper outside the bagel shop at shopping center The Hub. A few meters beyond him, I turned about and backtracked, thinking he could make a good moment. I shot two quickies from the hip, using Leica Q2 Monochrom.
The first is blurry; the second is the Featured Image. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 200, 1/125 sec, 28mm; 10:10 a.m. PDT. The candid capture is minimally recomposed and somewhat straightened. I seriously considered presenting a tight, 100-percent crop, which would make the headline—about a fired cop—clearer. Zooming in for a look is your job, should you want it.
This series started six years ago today, with Scruffy—a seemingly stray kitty seen once only. A few months earlier, I underwent cataracts surgery that replaced both my natural lenses, and, separately, a specialist treated Macular Edema in both my retinas. During the process of recovering my vision, I embarked into feline photography as visual therapy and to improve my skills with a camera.
In a neighborhood known for dogs, I expected to find maybe 30 cats—a month’s worth and then be done. Five-hundred-and-twelve profiles (including this one) later, I miscalculated. My shooting skills improved because of the project, and my eyes are healthier now; vision is better than normal in the left; that’s something to be grateful for. Hugely so.
Whenever walking through Hillcrest, I typically carry Leica Q2 Monochrom, because black and white fits the grim character. Sidewalks are dirty and smell of urine; there are more homeless than litter—and the latter is no small amount. The San Diego neighborhood juxtaposes those residents of means (rents and cost of everything is high) and those without anything more than what they cart around.
The Featured Image is example enough. I believe that’s a gent hunched over looking at something—if not sleep standing, or attempting to be. Bags of belongings hang from what could be two shopping carts, but who can tell with bedding draped over?
How did this fine feline get overlooked? My wife and I came upon the shorthair somewhere near where meet Madison and New York on July 3, 2022. Shame on me for inexplicably waiting for so long to share.
Fur color reminds of Hanoi, whom we met in November 2017 on Maryland Court. Locations are close enough for a wanderer but my guess is two different animals.
While walking down Mission, today, I heard constant meowing across the street and wondered: Where? How’s an apartment’s second floor balcony. Closing in, I pleaded with the kitty not to jump. Surely my human talk was gibberish at best.
That said, my approach silenced the shorthair, who cocked its head and posed. Several times—almost like I had been beckoned to come and shoot portraits. Cue the Twilight Zone music for the episode about mind-reading cats.
On Dec. 22, 2018, I happened by New Vision Christian Fellowship during the latter portion of its Christmas celebration. Clueless me for not knowing what was going on in my San Diego neighborhood of University Heights. But my ignorance only started there. I also didn’t know that the church had sold the property to developers. This would be the last such gathering at the location.
I rather gingerly shot candids, using Leica Q, wanting not to intrude—particularly because of timing: Parents lined up with kids to receive presents of what kind I either didn’t see or simply don’t recall; being otherwise focused. None of the three shots is spectacular; their value is marking a moment passed that can never return or repeat.
We begin a series of posts looking at what was along Park Blvd between El Cajon and Meade in San Diego neighborhood University Heights and what replaces it. On most Friday afternoons, New Vision Christian Fellowship opened its doors to give away food. Long lines formed, with recipients largely making up two disparate demographic groups: The elderly and Hispanic families.
I used Leica M10 and Summarit-M 1:2.4/50 lens to capture the Featured Image and companion on April 27, 2018. Vitals for both: f/5.6 (guess), ISO 100, 1/500 sec, 50mm; 5:06 p.m. PDT.
When seeing this tabby, I assumed that it must be either Defender or Dodger, both of which were photographed within territorial vicinity. But markings are distinctly different. Unfortunately, I couldn’t approach close enough to read name on the tag.
My wife and I encountered the shorthair in the alley separating Campus and North. I shot portraits using iPhone 13 Pro and Leica Q2; the Featured Image comes from the camera. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 100, 1/80 sec, 28mm; 6:14 p.m. PDT, Sept. 11, 2022.
The same outing that led my wife and I to cat Nugget brought us past three cacti. The towering one, with what appeared like ears and snout, conjured anthropomorphized alpaca head—and also a cactus family, together; papa (tallest), momma (middle), youngster (smallest).
I asked Annie to stop and wait, while my fingers fumbled with Leica Q2. The Featured Image is the second of four photos, taken from slightly different perspectives. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/2, ISO 100, 1/1250 sec, 28mm; 10:26 a.m. PDT, Sept. 15, 2022.
If we lived somewhere else, I would have brought home this rocker, today. But like the giver, we live in an apartment too small (772 square feet) to take on another piece of furniture. How grand and—by my wife’s estimation—”antique” is this fine piece of craftsmanship and upholstery.
Surely giving up something sentimental—”My G’ma’s”—makes the freebee all the more poignantly placed. May the new owner treasure, rather than resell, the chair, in which Annie sat and proclaimed its comfort and sturdiness. Location: Adams Avenue, just East of Park Blvd, in San Diego neighborhood University Heights.