Welcoming spring & staying on the ground

It's not a particularly pretty day today. That's an understatement. It's a miserable dreary day. One of those days when it isn't quite warm and it isn't quite cool... the sun isn't really out but it's not all that cloudy either... Moderation is great and everything - but not when it comes to springtime.

I'm having a spring fever sort of day in spite of it. This morning I wandered out onto the porch and heard a sound I hadn't heard in many, many months: the coo of a mourning dove. I was so thrilled that in my rush to find the visitor - I almost missed her sitting just a few feet above my head.

She doesn't care that the porch is in need of a good coat of paint... Nor does she care that some total lunatic is jumping around beneath her and snapping her picture.

There she was - giving me the once-over while working on her nest. A few seconds later her mate answered from a nearby crape myrtle. I bounced around the porch like a madwoman and shouted 'hello' at them both. I love mourning doves. Er.. and one of the reasons I love them so much is that the families who live in our yard are not put off at all by my antics. In years past, every one of the capitals of our porch columns housed a pair of nesting doves. This year we have only this pair -- but that is one pair more than I expected after Katrina.

I took a trip around the side of the house then - to leave the two of them to their work in peace for a little while.. And found our tiny redbud tree with a handful of velvety pink buds. Another happy discovery. We had planted that tree in honor of our anniversary last year and have worried for months that it couldn't survive being totally submerged in salt water... But apparently we were wrong - and it has come to life... Today. On our anniversary.

Oh but I'm not done! Just a little while after the warm and fuzzy discoveries -- that big pickup truck with the worried-looking guys showed up again with a long ladder.

He said it was scary up there.

I truly feel sorry for anyone who works on our roof. It's such a long way up. The poor guy in the picture told me that the ladder he was hanging onto for dear life was a 40 foot extension ladder. The bottom of the ladder was staked to the house near the gutter. They truly thought they would be able to reach the peak... until he climbed up there. They ended up calling for someone to bring them another ladder so they could finish the job... but finish the job, they did.
We officially have fascia again. I haven't inspected the whole house -- I'll leave that to Dave... but there's a huge improvement from what I can see. And I'm always grateful I'm not the one that has to climb the roof.