Into the wild (of the back yard)

The late summer day was mellowed out by monsoonal overcast from the desert. That made the outdoors on an August afternoon in Fresno unusually inviting.
My young niece Isabel cheered for us to go into the garden and pick the sunflower seeds. Mom and Isabel cut the giant seed filled flower pods off the tall plants and brought them under the patio roof to the table. Already on the table was a hummingbird's nest, just pulled down from its spot on the patio mobile. That darn hummingbird had the nerve to come back to the nest she built out of spider webs very infrequently. So the nest awaited its fate as Isabel's Show and Tell on Monday. So on to getting the pesky sunflower seeds to come of the the giant sunflower. Mom slams it down on the table, trying to get the seeds to fall out, smashing the nest and the cute little eggs in it.
The local gray American squirrel was barking up a storm from the Sequoia Sempervirens (Coast Redwoods) mini-grove overlooking the walnut's thicket on the yard's northwest corner. The squirrel eats all the walnuts, and we never get to enjoy any. But it was still mid August, and perhaps there might be some left. Isabel said I should go check. I went back there and was entangled by black widow webs. Luckily the shy creepy crawlies hide in the daytime, because, believe it or not, scrub jays can't resist them. I'm sure they're delicious to other birds too, but I saw the scrub jay one day savor a dead black widow like it was a gourmet berry.
Overhead, the sky is changing, from cloudy white to deep blue. As the summer sun comes out, perhaps gettingto the back yard trees would offer respite.
Fighting my way towards the walnuts underneath the mysteriously nonstop barking squirrel, I discovered a booty of delight I never knew, for right by the rusty old tool sheds the old walnut tree was bare but next to it were hundreds of Granny Smith Apples! Filled with uncontrollable glee, I ran out of the thicket, boasting of not finding walnuts, but apples, apples, apples! Dad said he planted the apple tree about 15 years ago. Even though they had mostly rotted and fallen off the tree, many were in salvageable condition... many still on the tree, still firm and delicious.
Dad follows us out, slowly, as he is recovering from his lung surgery. It was his tree - he had to see it for himself. As we all get back there suddenly from out of one of the old abandoned tool sheds darts something orange and furry. Was it a squirrel? No, it was a yucky feral cat, probably living wild in the tool sheds. Probably what the squirrel was yelling at. So Dad locks the tool sheds, which had been left open for years. Mom goes up to retrieve fallen apples off the roofs of the sheds, but discovers cat poop up there buried in the soil of several seasons of fallen apples and leaves. So she cleans up the roof and picks apples amid that reaking cat poo odor while we run in and out of the house, feeling guilty for leaving Mom out there cleaning the tool sheds.
Isabel returns and helps out. I ferry the tools she needs. I was admittedly wimpy about fighting the web-covered tree to get at most of the remaining apples, but she stuck with it, finding enough green, crunchy, sweet-tart Granny Smith apples to fill a large Rubbermaid® utility bucket.
The wild kingdom of the back yard yields many delights on this warm Fresno August afternoon, and Dad, getting hungry requests that Mom come in and tend to dinner. Getting a pizza from the nearby Me-n-Ed's was planned as early as morning and something we all looked forward to. So Isabel pulls Mom out of the tree.
On the way to the house, Mom laments she's too covered in dirt, dust, spider webs to go to get the Oizza and would have to take a shower. What a daunting task! She's saying this just as she gets to the swimming pool, a classic Blue Dolphin swimming pool built in 1974. Isabel suggests that she could just jump into the pool with all her clothes on instead of taking a shower, so she does. Then little Isabel jumps in. Now boith the girls are shreaking with delight in the spontaneity of it all. "Get in, David!!" Isabel says. Eventually she pulls me in, all clothes still on. We swam for about an hour, so I guess dad was going to be alright and patiently await his pizza a little longer.
From out of the pool my eyes catch the darting flight of the elusive mother hummingbird coming by the check her nest. Squeaking at the top of her little birdie lungs, "How dare! How you fucking dare! Fuck you! Fuck you!" and then she flew off back into the crepe myrtle, mulberry and live oaks.
The clouds cleared away slowly and revealed the deep blue sky above them as the sun set in a blaze of golden glory. Long tree shadows, wall shadows and roof shadows crossed lawns and streets all across the city.