The menacing palm dons the season’s appropriate attire. Perhaps you remember his “Be Mine” Valentine or “Uncle Sam” glam for Fourth of July? He is a grim Easter Bunny, stretching out arms in an embrace that I wouldn’t take. You?
Maybe rather than give out candy, he sees you as the cream-filled treat. So don’t be fooled by the cute ears. The teeth! Look at the teeth.
I saved the Featured Image, captured on Jan. 2, 2022 using Leica Q2, for Valentine’s Day. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/5.6, ISO 100, 1/400 sec, 28mm; 9:43 a.m. PST. The tree rises above a utility […]
The menacing palm that you met in April 2021 dresses in holiday-appropriate attire, like Uncle Sam garb for Fourth of July. Now he’s ready for Valentine’s Day in 13 days and has been at least since I captured the Featured Image on Jan. 4, 2022. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/4, ISO 100, 1/640 sec, 28mm; 2:04 p.m. PST.
Composed as shot, the moment comes from Leica Q2. If you live in, or visit, San Diego’s University Heights neighborhood, you can see this terrifying tree on North Avenue between Meade and Monroe.
Now I understand why the city of San Diego cut down the majestic palm on my street that South American Palm Weevils had infested. The dead, or dying trees, are dangerous. What a story we tell today, with accompanying photographs. Read and look on.
Walking with my wife along Meade Ave. in University Heights, I told her about the restaurant that Canadian officials closed for accepting dog photos instead of vaccination verifications for SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19. Wanting to confirm country, I asked Annie to stop at cross-street Georgia, where I pulled out iPhone 13 Pro and web-searched. If not for that 30 seconds delay, we would have missed the disaster that had occurred at the corner. She saw the aftermath and called me to look.
Winter, or what I call late Summer, is when citrus trees bear luscious fruit in Southern California. Consider this lovely lemon tree that greets residents of quaint cottages along the Alabama-Florida alley. Who wouldn’t want to live in such a charming retreat, tucked away and lush?
But bring your high-paying job. Charm isn’t cheap in San Diego, given rising real estate costs. Median rent for a one-bedroom apartment is $2,095, according to Zumper (about which I am largely unfamiliar). When I last cited the company’s data, February 2021, the median was $1,810. Yikes! Two bedroom: $2,895.
Following “The Tree Tragedy” that destroyed the provider of shade (for us) and food and refuge (for birds and squirrels), I was ready to give notice and move out of our apartment. One problem: In December 2020, Governor Gavin Newsom essentially closed down the state for the entire month in response to a reported surge in SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 cases (e.g., positive tests for infection).
But Spring (e.g., Early Summer in San Diego parlance) brought more birds than any other year—many flocking to a hedge nearby our assigned parking space. Across the street, they, and other animals, used the mighty date palm as a majestic habitat. But South American Palm Weevils infested the tree, which the city destroyed in late July. The bugs are not indigenous and removal of infected palms seeks to slow their spread.
I frequently see Loki, who was profiled in my “Cats of University Heights” series, jump onto a fence and into a yard where he doesn’t live. Two catio captives, nicknamed Jester and King, call home the place right next door. Today, while walking by, my wife and I saw something else on the fence—the owner’s generosity. Don’t you want one? C`mon, confess! The persimmons sure look delicious.
What I initially missed, and Annie pointed out, is the tree bearing the fruit. It towers in the blurred background of the Featured Image. The companion provides context, by focusing on the leaves and hanging persimmons, but would be meaningless without the first photo.
Last night’s thunderstorms brought 524 “cloud-to-ground lightning” strikes throughout San Diego County for the “24 hours ending at 7 a.m. [PDT] today”, according to the National Weather Service. I saw evidence of one on Louisiana Street between Meade and Monroe, not far from where live Angelo and Huck—both of which were profiled in my “Cats of University Heights” series. According to the closest-living neighbor, the strike, which sent portion of a palm tree to blaze, occurred around 8 p.m. Not long later, fire crews extinguished the flames.
The Featured Image is the unbecoming first photo from iPhone 13 Pro, which arrived from Apple on Sept. 24, 2021. Vitals: f/2.8, ISO 25, 1/2597 sec, 77mm; 10:24 a.m., today. Scaring and some charing is visible below the frond top. The device’s telephoto lens proved its worth.
My day started with resolve not to document destruction of the majestic palm infested with South American Palm Weevils—across the street from my home office window. But my wife and I watched the preparation stage, which was the city towing a pickup truck, baring Washington State plates, parked directly beneath the block’s major wildlife habitat.
Soon after, we heard the surprising sound of a chainsaw but could see no lift raised high so that a cutter could sever fronds from the palm’s crown. From a different window, Annie spotted someone working the base of the tree and a rope tied to the top. Then we realized: Rather than the more typical cut-from-the-top-down method, the men approached the project like lumberjacks would back home in Maine.
The majestic palm infested with South American Palm Weevils did not come down today as planned. Tree cutters arrived around 7 a.m. PDT—four vehicles, which included lift and shredder. But the workers met an obstacle—a lone car curbed below the palm and smack beneath the sign warning: “No Parking, Tree Removal, 7-19-21, 7 a.m. to 5 p.m.” Two hours later, with no one come to move the auto and tow-truck unavailable, the frustrated tree-cutter chief abandoned the project for another. He told me that his crew couldn’t return any sooner than Wednesday (July 21), because of other commitments.
When departing, he removed the signs, which is why you don’t see any in the Featured Image taken at 11:10 a.m., using iPhone XS. Vitals: f/1.8, ISO 25, 1/2257 sec, 26mm (film equivalent). When I returned from a walk, about 12:30 p.m., someone had placed new “No Parking” signs for the 22nd.
One of our apartment’s main benefits: Abundance of urban wildlife visible from expansive windows. Directly across the street from my home office is a magnificent palm tree that is the block’s primary animal habitat. Dozens of birds, of various ilks, fly up into crevices throughout daylight hours all year long. Remember: San Diego is a climate of three Summer seasons: Early, Mid, and Late. Squirrels scurry up the trunk, chasing one another. Who knows what else lives there? Tomorrow, the city plans to remove the tree. I understand the reason but hate it.
According to University California San Diego, invasive, deadly South American Palm Weevils were “first detected in March 2016″—that’s locally. But agricultural experts identified the beetles’ encroachment along the Mexican border five years earlier. The insects essentially infest the heart of the palm crown, destroying it. The bad news from arborists Coastal Tree Care: “When left undetected, this damage is irreversible and will leave you with no choice but to remove your palm trees”. Judging from the topless trees I see in some of the canyons, and the speed with which the weevils appear to spread, infected trees must be destroyed as soon as they show symptoms. A month ago, the palm across the street looked normally healthy. No longer.
The menacing palm is suddenly sort of cheerful—and patriotic. He’s dressed as Uncle Sam for forthcoming Fourth of July; and early about it (I love the bowtie). But there’s still some ghastly about his face—and the outstretched arms are grabby. Considering that Sammy is a symbol representing the Federal Government, the decorative grimly tree is something of an appropriate metaphor for gruesome, grubby Washington, D.C. bureaucracy (insert your choice of branch(es) or agency here).
I used Leica Q2 to capture the Featured Image, which is composed as shot. Vitals, aperture manually set: f/2.8, ISO 100, 1/1600 sec, 28mm; 11:38 a.m. PDT, today. I debated about going back for full sunlit illumination but in the end decided that the shadow cast creates illusion of a ghostly body. Hehe. Uncle Sam rises from the grave!