Tag: trees

Photo by Joe WilcoxJan 7, 202310:55 pm

The Swimming Pool

Rising and falling voices coming from outside our front window served as ambient noise as I puttered about the apartment this afternoon. Sometime later, I stepped through the front gate on an errand run, when one of the talkers—a younger woman—approached and asked if she could ask a question. The older lady accompanying her used to live in one of the apartments—50 years ago! The former resident recalled there being a swimming pool, or was she mistaken?

Oh, yes, long ago, a pool was the courtyard centerpiece, but the thing had been retired and filled in decades ago. Where people swam, a tree grows, as you can see from the Featured Image—taken today using Leica Q2—and the companion photo from iPhone XS on Aug. 16, 2019.

Photo by Joe WilcoxDec 23, 202210:39 pm

No Christmas Cheer Here

One of the nearby assuredly festively-decorated houses isn’t this Christmas season. You can get a sense of what’s typical from the profile of Queenie, who joined my “Cats of University Heights” series in December 2021. Sadly, she vanished last month, and her owner assumes coyote.

Sad as that may seem, the family suffered another emotional assault a month earlier, when the homeowner came home to find that the four towering palms outside her house had been marked for removal (e.g. clearcutting). Reportedly, San Diego Gas and Electric ordered the curbside destruction.

Photo by Joe WilcoxDec 1, 202210:13 pm

Christmas Bird

To celebrate the new month, and last one of the year, we turn back the clock to Dec.5, 2020, when I used Leica Q2 to capture the Featured Image. For the previously unpublished shot, I take some risk now; the Christmas bird blends too well into the tree’s foliage. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 100, 1/320 sec, 28mm; 3:22 p.m. PST.

I don’t recall seeing the decoration in 2021 and I must watch for it this year. Perhaps its owners flew off to another state—as so many other folks did—during the SARS-CoV-2(severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 lockdowns.

Photo by Joe WilcoxNov 26, 20227:54 pm

Elf Tree Peace

Typically, homeless hang out on the sidewalks along the walls outside Sprouts supermarket, located at the intersection of Georgia and Howard in San Diego neighborhood University Heights. As such I wouldn’t have seen—or been able to take the Featured Image of—the tree-hanging lucky charm, whether he be leprechaun or Santa’s elf (you tell me which). But yesterday, the space was uncharacteristically unoccupied.

What a difference 24 hours makes. This afternoon, when I strolled by: One gent lay sleeping, wrapped in a brown blanket. Someone else huddled under a makeshift habitat, of which bicycle hubs were part of the structure. Another fellow crumpled cans collected from recycle bins; he worked from garbage bags carried in, and hanging from, a shopping cart. I couldn’t see the tree, or what was on it.

Photo by Joe WilcoxNov 25, 20228:42 pm

The Loner

Why are you looking at a couple of lonely leaves? Because their grapevine is something of an obsession; I am enthralled by the growing location—on a grassy patch between sidewalk and street somewhere in my San Diego neighborhood of University Heights.

Last year, I chronicled the grapes’ progression from green to mixed color to richly ripe. Walking by today, I saw that the branches had been clipped, as they are every autumn, but something remained—making me intriguingly sentimental enough to stop with Leica Q2 and capture the Featured Image. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/2.8, ISO 100, 1/1250 sec, 28mm; 11:45 a.m. PST.

Photo by Joe WilcoxOct 12, 20229:07 pm

Admiring God’s Paintbrush

As autumn colors lavish landscapes across the Northeastern United States, but eternal summer simmers in Southern California, I must go back to the past to find something appropriate to share—from our family’s time living a few miles outside the Washington, DC Beltway. On Nov. 2, 2005, I lugged outside Canon EOS 20D, mounted with the EF 70-200mm f/4L USM lens obtained a few days earlier.

The Featured Image and companion, both composed as captured, are picks from a series for each. Looking over the set reveals similar shots at different apertures. Interestingly, for the first, I prefer the renders where the house is less blurred. Vitals: f/18, ISO 800, 1/125 sec, 200mm; 12:51 p.m. EST.

Photo by Joe WilcoxSep 3, 20228:30 pm

Bird Formation

If yesterday is a measure, darkness will bring little to no relief from the monsoonal heatwave oppressing Southern California. Muggy air cooled down to 23 degrees Celsius (74 F) outdoors overnight but to 29 C (84 F) in our apartment—first instance since we moved here such imbalance occurred. As I write, outside and inside temps are in near (sorrowful) equilibrium: 31.6 C (89 F) and 32.7 C (91 F), respectively.

Looking for some additional activity, early evening, I walked about parts of San Diego neighborhoods University Heights and North Park. The Featured Image and companion come from the latter—along The Boulevard approaching Texas Street. As I passed by this tree, something hanging on the bark caught my attention. Can you see why?

Photo by Joe WilcoxJul 11, 20229:23 pm

The Sky is Falling

From May 15, 2022, a lone palm tree reaches upwards. I saved the Featured Image for a chaotic day when something soothing might lift my spirits. So here we are on a Monday evening trying to do just that.

I am not exactly a cloud-identification expert. Are these Altocumulus or perhaps Cirrocumulus? Whichever, or neither, the clouds are what prompted my interest.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJul 5, 20228:45 pm

The One That Remains

Two days ago, I shared with you a palm pair on Oregon Street in North Park; the shorter of the two had been marked by city contractors for removal. More by chance than planning, my wife and I walked by the location this afternoon; the tree infested with South American Palm Weevils is gone.

The other must be healthy because it still stands, as you can see from the Featured Image. Vitals: f/1.7, ISO 100, 1/8000 sec, 28mm; 3:50 p.m. PDT. I used Leica Q2 to make two street shots, choosing the cropped top to include the magnificent, sprawling shadow.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJul 3, 20228:22 pm

Mourning Moment

As my wife and I walked up Meade Avenue in North Park, today, a sickly palm caught my attention. Crossing Oregon Street, I saw a white X on the right tree, indicating that city workers had marked it for removal. I am uncertain about the health of the other, but no marking indicates that it isn’t slated to be chopped down.

San Diego fights futilely to hold back advance of the South American Palm Weevil, which was observed along the Mexican border in 2011. The first infestations appeared five years later. The insects essentially infest the heart of the Canary Island Date Palm crown, destroying it.

Photo by Joe WilcoxJun 8, 20229:07 pm

Bark Art

Trust the wife to have a good eye for the amazing. Today, while walking through Old Trolley Barn Park, which is located in San Diego’s University Heights neighborhood, Annie stopped to regard tree bark and photograph it with her iPhone 13 Pro. I almost walked past, ignoring her interest. But quick examination revealed a mesmerizing mosaic that could easily be a painting hanging in an art gallery.

When she finished her impromptu shoot, I set to work with Leica Q2. For the Featured Image, I used the Macro control—activated by turning a ring around the lens barrel. Vitals, aperture manually set for both: f/4, ISO 100, 1/50 sec, 28mm; 10:57 a.m. PDT.

Photo by Joe WilcoxMay 22, 20228:15 pm

Chopped Before Its Time

While walking West on Monroe Avenue, in San Diego’s University Heights neighborhood, my wife and I could hear tree cutting as we approached cross-street Georgia. Sure enough, to our left, going towards Mission, a work crew cut and carted two palms. We had to investigate.

As you can see from the Featured Image and companions, all captured using Leica Q2, an extremely healthy-looking palm top is lifted and dumped. I wondered why and what was chopped. Annie and I walk down this street somewhat regularly, not recalling any recent road signs or other indications that the city would destroy more trees.