Notes from My Old Backyard

I'm not talking in hip-guy terms, like Sacramento is my "old backyard", even if I consider it kinda like that. I mean in a literal sense. I have some notes from the yard I used to play in that was outdoors and considered private by the building industry.

One of the neighbors that share some fence line with us have always had concord grapes, and this vine structure did, at some point every year, poke over the fence and let us kids grub on tasty seeded grapes. This grape vine has gone crazy in the years I've been away. These two trees are close to one another and both on our side of the fence. Look close at the leaves; you can see grape leaves all entangled in both trees' branches, fighting for sunlight at even the highest reaches:




Here's a picture of the first tree; it looks almost like it's being crippled by the grape vine.



The center piece of my old backyard is the fruitless mulberry tree. This giant has provided shade during the brutal Sacramento summer afternoons for as long as the house has been there, I imagine. My brother and I, and even our friend from the earlier post, Chris Farley, spent countless summer, spring, fall, and even an occasional winter's day, climbing around like happy little monkeys. If you climb high enough, you can see Lichen Elementary, our school, off in the distance.




I still think it's a majestic tree, but Dan remind me that I don't rake it's thousands upon thousands of leaves. Very true, good sir.