While we were out there, we started looking at the trees for cicada casings. We came across a cluster of seven of them all in one section on a single pine tree.
Bits and pieces of debris start to rain down.
See, we've been dodging bits of pine cone, sticks and even left over figs for the last week. Somewhere in that tree, a Ninja Squirrel is yelling,
every time we come out into the yard... Which we do several times every day.
My oldest says that if the squirrel goes after us again tomorrow, he needs to create a contraption to deal with it.
But we don't want to get too confrontational.
We'd like to think it's a geriatric old squirrel
shaking it's fist and hollering, "Rotten kids! Get off of my lawn!", but we all know that beneath that cute exterior is evil incarnate, waiting for just the right opportunity to strike.
I think if my boy even attempt to toss a rock that way, we'll have a war on our hands.
And there are a lot more of them, than there are of us...