It’s a new year, complete with fresh challenges. After kicking things off last week, it’s Anne’s turn to host our weekly photo challenge. She writes, “Have you ever gone out on a photo outing and not seen anything that would have your camera saying, ‘Pick me up and help me take this picture’? I have a theory that there is always something to photograph…” You can find her full challenge post here.

We’ve just arrived in Tucson for the winter, so I took the opportunity to explore the neighborhood—twice, in fact—to see what kinds of photo opportunities might present themselves. Just steps from our apartment, we passed a neighbor’s unit, and I couldn’t shake the feeling we were being watched. I mean the feline no ill will, but looking at those wide eyes, I was reminded of the old adage: “Curiosity killed the cat.”

We stepped out onto the sidewalk in front of our apartment complex and were greeted by the familiar hum of traffic along the highway that borders Rio Cancion, our winter neighborhood. Now in our second Tucson season, this challenge “forced” me to bring the Nikon Z7 II along for the walk. In the distance, River Road meets Campbell Avenue, and the traffic signal there holds red so long that when the commuters stack up, the backup stretches well past our entrance.

Across the street, the view of the Santa Catalina Mountains shifts—from a relatively open panorama to a backdrop framed by businesses and the headquarters of the Catalina Foothills School District. The soundtrack changes too: a steady hum of engines idling at the light gives way to the sudden roar of vehicles surging forward when the signal turns green.

On our side of the street, the landscape shifts between apartment complexes, gated condo communities, and strip malls. Near the corner of Campbell and River Road, we stepped off the sidewalk and into St. Philip’s Plaza. My first photo op was this mural—painted on the side of the Pure Love Juice Bar—radiating color and calm beneath the words “We Are All One.”

Just inside the plaza, a burst of red caught my eye. A vase of carnations, nestled in a terracotta planter, seemed to glow in the late afternoon light. The red and green palette echoed the holiday season we’d just left behind, but the fresh blossoms felt like a quiet promise—a new year, and hopefully, a better one.

Walking past Proof Pizza, we entered the plaza courtyard, the sidewalk leading straight behind the stage. A college football game played on a massive screen—its colors and crowd noise spilling into the open air. But what caught my attention wasn’t the game—it was the back of the screen itself. Have you ever seen the rear side of a giant TV? A web of cables, metal framing, and warning signs greeted us, including a modest fence and a bold “Danger—High Voltage.” Needless to say, I wasn’t tempted to get any closer.

Stepping fully into the courtyard, the fountain offered a moment of calm before the evening crowd arrived. Water splashed in the warm light, and only a few late-afternoon diners lingered at the surrounding tables. It was a peaceful pause in a space that would soon be buzzing with conversation and clinking glasses.

We wouldn’t be stopping for dinner on this photo walk, but I had to pause for the statue of St. Philip at the entrance to the Plaza. While he marks the gateway to this modern neighborhood hub, he is also the namesake of the historic St. Philip’s In The Hills church, located just across the busy lanes of River Road. The shopping center was built on land leased from the parish and designed to mirror the church’s 1930s Spanish Colonial style so closely that they feel like one continuous space—even though the sanctuary itself remains tucked away from view for most walkers on this side of the intersection.

We took the same route home, back to Rio Cancion at the top of the hill. That gave me the chance to share our entrance secret. As I mentioned earlier, several apartment complexes sit between St. Philip’s Plaza and Rio Cancion. Ours is marked by a festive set of red and blue balloons. Whether approaching from the east or the west, we spot them well in advance—just enough time to signal and ease into the driveway without surprising the cars behind us.

Technically, this is where I admit to bending one of the challenge “rules.” The prompt asked us to keep everything to the same walk and the same block—but when your block is bordered by a river walk on one side and an urban scene on the other, the definition of “same walk” becomes a bit… negotiable. I didn’t realize at the time that a “Y” in the river walk would have let us pop out right at St. Philip’s Plaza, so I treated the neighborhood as one block experienced in two segments, on two different days—two half‑blocks stitched together, half city and half riverbank.

On the way back from the plaza, we stopped by the apartment office to ask about access to the Rillito River Walk from Rio Cancion. The answer was simple: a gate at the back of the complex allows residents with a facilities key to enter and exit the walkway just a few steps beyond the fence. With that knowledge in hand, Part II of our walk commenced the following evening.

As we stepped onto the river walk, we noticed that many of the walkers—and a few bike riders—were bundled up in coats and hoodies. Coming from North Dakota, we found the high 50s perfectly comfortable, even pleasant. One walker, wrapped in a long coat and wearing a face mask, greeted us with a cheerful “Welcome to an Arizona winter.” We smiled, knowing that for us, this was practically spring.

There are public entrance and exit points all along the walkway. At Campbell Avenue, a walker can choose to continue under the river bridge at Campbell or stay at street level and exit the path just south of St. Philip’s Plaza. The Rillito River Walk stretches roughly 12 miles (19 km) and connects parks, trailheads, and neighborhoods on both sides of the river. From Campbell, heading west toward La Cholla Boulevard covers about 4.5 miles (7.2 km), while the eastern route toward Craycroft Road spans approximately 3.5 miles (5.6 km). Whether you’re out for a short stroll or a longer trek, the path offers plenty of options for entry, exit, and scenic pauses.

Back when I made spelling errors on paper, I’d reach for an eraser or a bottle of White-Out. Today, it’s a simple tap of the Backspace key. But imagine being the engraver, knowing a single slip of the hand would be etched into stone for decades. I double-checked to be sure: there is only one letter ‘l’ in St. Philip. The plaza sign gets the credit for accuracy; the bridge sign? Not so much.

After our 15-minute walk to the plaza, we had the option to continue to River Road and head back to Rio Cancion. We chose to turn around and retrace our steps along the Rillito River Walk. Compared to the steady buzz of traffic on River Road, the trail offered a welcome hush—just the soft shuffle of walkers, the whir of bicycles, and the occasional skateboard gliding past. No motorized vehicles are allowed here, and that silence made all the difference.

That’s my response to Anne’s challenge. Last week, I enjoyed seeing everyone’s favorite photos from 2025. The annual opener is always a highlight—each post a reflection of care, creativity, and personal perspective. Next week, it’s Ritva’s turn to host. Be sure to follow her here so you don’t miss the challenge, which goes live on Saturday at noon Eastern time. If you’re a blogger and want to join in, you can find the challenge details here.

About the photos: This series was a solid workout for the Nikon Z7 II paired with the Nikkor 24-120/4 S lens. All images were processed using Adobe Lightroom Classic and Luminar Neo. No generative AI enhancements—just the camera, the walk, and the light. If you like to pixel-peep or check out the metadata, the photos are in 2K HD on my Flickr site here.

John Steiner