Crunched-time schedule means no post for the previous two days. We resume with another fine feline—the one-hundred-thirty-first found behind door or window. Sighting street is withheld; sorry `bout that.
I used Samsung Galaxy S24 Ultra to capture the Featured Image, on May 11, 2024. Vitals: f/3.4, ISO 40, 1/120 sec, (synthetic) 230mm (digital and optical zoom); 3:51 p.m. PDT. Nickname: Vim.
Memory of my maternal grandmother: Grapefruit for breakfast, regardless of season—and I wonder where she bought the citrus during Northern Maine winters. I never had a taste for the bitter, over-sized oranges but my wife does.
So we were delighted to find some, set out by a neighbor, yesterday. She is caretaker of Rick, one of the “Cats of University Heights“. Annie grabbed two, while I waited and thanked our benefactor. How sweet: She put out bags for people to carry their fruit.
I rarely photograph San Diego homeless, as a silent sign of respect. But, today, one gentlemen so surprised me that I felt compelled to take the shot—well, several. Walking East on Meade Ave., I saw him sleeping on the sidewalk across the way, where Mission cuts diagonally—think 45 degrees—from the intersection at Park Blvd.
The sleep mask is what intrigued me. He looked so unusually comfortable, lying on the cement, which was surprising, too. Foot and vehicular traffic is fairly brisk, and noisy, on a Friday afternoon; then there is the bus stop—a couple meters away, at most. Yet he looked so serene and lay motionless, but in an open space where homeless are otherwise uncommon.
Seven years ago today, I shot the Featured Image, using Leica Q. Bruce, who shared residence with Guido and Little, waited for his owner. The previous week, I got a glimpse of the woman walking her dog (Dakota), and the short-legged kitty ambling along with them. What a wonderful sight, and I had to know more. Scouting about led me to one of the neighborhood’s handsomest—and most beloved—cats.
A few years later, over the Christmas holidays, Dakota passed away, That put an end to the dog-cat walks, until some months later when Bruce’s owner—now one of our favorite neighbors—rescued the amicable Apple. In some dictionary somewhere, sweetness is defined by a description of that dog. Sigh. She suddenly passed away last week, as was explained yesterday. Bruce is gone, too; he vanished over Memorial Day weekend 2023.
On April 30, 2024, one of our favorite neighbors said sad goodbye to her beloved dog, Apple. Six days earlier, she took the animal to a veterinarian for surgery to remove a mass on the rump. But the procedure had to be aborted, and our neighbor received an overall grim prognosis but still with some months, even longer, of expected life left. Apple declined, however, looks like mainly because of the surgery, and she died. I received the teary phone call one week ago; yes, last Wednesday.
Already our neighbor suffered the loss of University Heights East’s favorite cat, Bruce, who vanished over Memorial Day weekend 2023. Beloved neighborhood runners-up: Pepto and Rick, who Apple visited on her walks. We all loved the dog, and our neighbor had amazing rapport and daily routine with Apple.
T long-delayed ophthalmologist appointment finally occurred today. That meant massive dilation to check my optical implants. My pupils were massively large, such that the iris in each eye rimmed so thinly that my best analogy is the muted corona around last month’s total solar eclipse.
As such, I spent most of the day indoors, hiding from sunlight, and only ventured outside after dark—and what a glorious evening, too. Mild: 16 Celsius (61 Fahrenheit). Despite temporarily impaired vision, I brought along Leica Q2 Monochrom.
The one-hundred-thirtieth feline found behind door or window is typical: Name unknown, so I must create one. But my creative choosing has limits, so, please, forgive my stretching to reach this one.
Surely you are familiar with roasting a sugary s’more around the campfire: Chocolate, graham cracker, and marshmallow. The cat’s colors are perfect for the confection. Don’t you agree?
A time not so long ago, Fuji’s single-lens compact camera series delighted photographers who wanted something smaller and capable—with creative extras, like the hybrid digital-optical viewfinder or fun film simulations.
Then TikTokers and Instagramers went, ah, quackers for retro-styling and the image—not that’s produced by the device but how they look carrying it. Suddenly, the X100V was in hot demand and available nowhere. Fuji’s answer to that problem was development of the X100VI, which started shipping two months ago.
I am uncertain how far into the past the backlog goes, but today’s putty-tat could be oldest in queue. I used Samsung Galaxy S23 Ultra to shoot the Featured Image and companions on Oct. 23, 2023. Vitals: f/4.9, ISO 50, 1/800 sec, 230mm (film equivalent); 5:12 p.m. PDT. Initially, I delayed sharing, hoping to get a name for the Calico. Waiting is over.
You are looking at the one-hundredth-one kitty seen along Alabama Street, somewhere between boundaries Adams and Lincoln, since the series‘ start in October 2016. That would be out of 581 profiles, including this one.
Last night, I noticed that Microsoft had updated the Windows 11 Photos app, adding some artificial intelligence chops. I used some of these capabilities to modify the Featured Image, which is composed as shot.
Before continuing that discussion, an editorial note: Finally we return to the kitty backlog; Dec. 17, 2023. Okay, resuming the topic: An object to the left would have identified location, so I used Photos’ new Generative Erase to remove the thing; three tries, by the way. I then used the Background Brush Tool to blur the left pane, which juxtaposes the sharp glass reflection to the right that somewhat obscures the cat.
This isn’t the way to clear up the beastie backlog—sharing a feline find from yesterday. My wife spotted the grey as we walked along the Cleveland Ave. overlook towards Campus. The shorthair is neither Blue nor Blue Too, both of which lived nearby and who joined the series in November 2016.
The Featured Image comes from Samsung Galaxy S24 Ultra. Vitals: f/3.4, ISO 64, 1/120 sec, (synthetic) 230mm (digital and optical zoom); 10:16 a.m. PDT. Composed as shot.
What about this one apartment that it attracts owners of ginger/orange putty-tats? Before Guy (real name), August called the place home and Penny before her. The newer resident is the the one-hundred-twenty-eighth feline found behind door or window, since the series‘ start in October 2016.
Unless I miscounted, Guy is the one-hundredth kitty from Alabama Street, somewhere between boundaries Adams and Lincoln. While the number is high compared to anywhere else in the neighborhood, it increases much slower than, say, 12 to 18 months ago. Residential turnover in that part of the neighborhood favors Bay Area and Los Angeles transplants, who tend to be dog owners.