One of the benefits of our old apartment was the frequent nesting of hummingbirds. They typically made their appearance about this time of year, which is why I chose the Featured Image taken on April […]
Tag: urban photography
How San Diego will Kill People
The Featured Image and companions document the beginnings of a disaster. For weeks, San Diego contractors have been dropping compost containers outside residences. These are in addition to recycle and trash bins already in use by apartments, condominiums, and homes across the area. Their deployment is the worst kind of stupid public policy, which is designed to protect the environment and diminish the so-called effects of climate change. Humans aren’t important enough to matter in the public policy equation.
Shortlist of grief: Animals knocking over bins and spilling rotting food into the alleys and streets. Hungry homeless people digging into the containers, also spilling rotting food, becoming sick from eating it, and likely spreading one or more of any number of bacterial infections. Disease is the clincher. These compost bins surely will be breeding grounds that could, and likely will, lead to E. Coli and Salmonella outbreaks—to name but two. One is reason enough to worry.
Pretty in Pink
Who doesn’t get gleefully wry when seeing graffiti gracing one of the many (un)affordable housing projects that ruin an area’s character? This monster-block high-rise is located along Park Blvd between Meade and El Cajon, where once was a church. Someday soon, I will present pictures to prove it.
But for this evening, our topic is the pink dog, which looks across the street to the outfield of Alice Birney Elementary, where locals are permitted to run their mutts when school isn’t in session and there are no recreational or sports activities planned. So yeah, graffiti fido fits in nicely.
Canyon Zooming Samsung Galaxy S23 Ultra
While walking along the Vermont Street Bridge, which separates San Diego neighborhoods Hillcrest and University Heights, I caught a flash of blue in the canyon below. Someone, presumably homeless, trudged through the foliage—lush and tall from heavy rains—towards a more protected space. Through the trees, I could make out red color that could be from a tent.
I whipped out Samsung Galaxy S23 Ultra and captured the Featured Image using the smartphone’s amazing 10X optical zoom capability. The companion pic is 3X, which I chose after seeing that 1X, which is 23mm film equivalent, would barely show the subject. Vitals: f/4.9, ISO 50, 1/120 sec, 230mm (film equivalent); 10:15 a.m. PDT, today. The other: f/2.4, ISO 50, 1/522 sec, 70mm (film equivalent); 10:15 a.m.
Samsung Galaxy S23 Ultra Near and Far
The immense amount of precipitation pummeling California this year makes for uncharacteristically lush landscape—as can be seen from the Cleveland Avenue overlook in San Diego neighborhood of University Heights. During our more than 15 years living here, I have never seen so much green growth.
Some Spring seasons, heavy rains mean crane flies cling to exterior walls of the apartment building outside the laundry room. Our cats, Cali and Neko, love to chase (and eat) them. I really should start looking evenings for the insects, which often are mistaken for mosquitos.
Ray of Light
Sigma DP1 returns for a palm shot to which I jacked up dehaze in Adobe Photoshop Lightroom to produce the punchy Featured Image. Vitals: f/7.1, ISO 100, 1/100 sec, 28mm (film equivalent); 11:50 a.m. PDT, April 12, 2008. This one is composed as captured.
Looking at the date stamp, my question: Where did 15 years go? And another: Why do I barely recognize San Diego’s cultural and urban landscapes?
‘How Does This Neighborhood Exist?’
The title of this post is the question I kept asking myself while walking along the streets nearby the hospital where our daughter recuperates. Charming. Quaint. Throwback. All are appropriate. Many of the houses are older, with bountiful yards teaming with plants, trees, and wildlife (mostly birds and butterflies). The smells and sounds are so idyllic.
I saw nothing but single-family homes, at a time when across San Diego County so-called Accessory Dwelling Units (ADUs) pop up in backyards faster than and as abundantly as mushrooms after the rain. Buildings are leveled to make way for multi-resident housing. Renovations turn homes with character into caricatures.
The Last Days of Mask Mandates are Now
I feel suffocated by the face mask that California requires me to wear in the hospital where our daughter recuperates. The rule applies to healthcare facilities of every ilk. But count the days. Starting April 3, 2023, face coverings will no longer be required. Related: The mandate demanding that healthcare workers to be vaccinated against SARS-CoV-2 (severe acute respiratory syndrome Coronavirus 2)/COVID-19 also ends.
Across San Diego, significantly noticeable number of residents continue to wear masks. Meanwhile, I see more and more of them discarded, each and every day, like the Featured Image. The mask presented for photographing, inside IKEA, on March 1, 2023.
‘I am Strong!’
For relatives, or anyone else interested, here is another update about our daughter, who has spent 22 days in the hospital—twelve on a ventilator. As she progresses—and more rapidly than anyone on staff would have guessed even a week ago—indications of stroke are obvious. While she can speak, her speech sounds nothing like herself; mumbled and stilted. She is jittery but by no means invalid. Cognition is good, but processes and motor functions are sluggish. That’s not a negative report. She recovers well, and briskly, without an intensive rehabilitation regime.
But that could change soon. Last night, around 8 p.m. PDT, the physical medicine and rehabilitation doctor called, and we spoke for about 54 minutes. He sees our daughter as being a very good candidate for entering an acute care program followed up by more out-patient rehab (which is fairly intensive). So that’s the tentative plan, depending on one of the facilities accepting her as a patient and insurance authorizing treatment.
Urban Husky
Depending on when I drive home from the hospital where is our daughter, choice is either I-5 or I-805. (Californians aren’t content with 5 or 805 but “the five” or “the eight-oh-five”, and I make a habit of avoiding adding “the”; just to be onery.) The latter highway exits at Adams but immediately becomes Madison. Because of construction at Texas, I turn at Hamilton, cutting over to Meade and using that street to go into our San Diego neighborhood.
For the past few passes along Hamilton, I marveled at a dog mural on the frontside of a multiunit residence that appears to be undergoing renovation. (Some locals refer to these as renovictions. Evict lower-paying tenants; make modifications; raise rents for new residents.) Tonight, setting sun filled the sky rather than rain pummeling down from it. I parked, go out, and walked over for a single shot taken with Samsung Galaxy S23 Ultra.
Old Glory Waits With You
While waiting more than 90 minutes in an ICU and surgery recovery waiting room today, I let distraction interfere with my appreciating the brightly-lit, tastefully charming, spirit uplifting surroundings, which included an American flag. Considering how the Stars and Stripes has come to represent all that some people see as wrong about the country, the banner’s presence surprised but delighted.
I took the opportunity to use Samsung Galaxy S23 Ultra‘s 50-megapixel camera. The Featured Image shows off some fine detail (zoom in to see)—only rivaled (and exceeded) by the smartphone’s 200MP alternative. Vitals: f/1.7,ISO 160, 1/60 sec, 23mm (film equivalent); 1:36 p.m. PST. The photo is cropped but otherwise unchanged.
Driving Disaster
What an appropriate time to see this vanity plate, as we meet the challenges of a medical emergency (not involving either my wife or myself but someone else). After a long day dealing with the situation, I chose takeaway for supper. Returning home from Pizza Hut, I came upon the car at the stoplight on Florida Street at El Cajon Blvd.
I pulled out Samsung Galaxy S23 Ultra and shot the Featured Image through the windshield. Vitals: f/2.4, ISO 640, 1/35 sec, 70mm (film equivalent); 7:07 p.m. PST; composed as captured. Typically, I obscure the numbers and/or letters but what privacy is there to protect with something so bold and timely as crisis. Oh, yeah, it’s rememberable, too.