Morning Serenade

These little guys are nesting in our next-door neighbor's porch. They crooned at me for hours while I did some backyard gardening yesterday.

I imagine our neighbor won't be too thrilled to discover them there. Then again, he might take it as a sign. This is the same neighbor, after all, who thinks his father -- who lived in the house until he passed away ten years ago -- is haunting him through the weeds that have popped up since his death. He also believes his house was built in the 1700s (which predates the Chicago street grid by about 100 years).

He's a decent guy and an excellent neighbor. And it's no bad thing to have an occasional Paul Bunyan story migrate from his yard. I probably prefer this to the inherited weeds, which also aren't so bad. The roots come up easy and some of those stragglers sprout pretty purple flowers in July.

And if any of this leads to those pigeons sticking around for a while, well, then I think I just saw his father's spirit blowing a dandelion into the air.