Now that our two-day trip to New Orleans is coming to an end, I have time to share some photos shot by NBC News folks in the field.

First, the backdrop for Tuesday's broadcast... what used to be 2120 Tennessee Street, washed or blown into the 2200 block, in the Lower Ninth Ward:

Photo by Roxanne Garcia, NBC News

Here's what the set looked like in a rare quiet moment before Tuesday's broadcast:

Photo by Roxanne Garcia, NBC News

Ever wonder how they shoot the sweeping aerial shots that show you the devastation's scope? Here's cameraman Ray Farmer in the construction lift:

Photo by, yes, Roxanne Garcia, NBC News

As for how the network sends all the live images to your TV screen, here's the satellite truck nicknamed "SwampBoy," which covers the Southeastern U.S. and more for NBC News:

Photo by Roxanne Garcia, NBC News

They'll hate me for doing this, but here is Team Brian Williams, at least editorially, during this trip.  Front left is producer Subrata De, next to her is producer Jean Harper, and in the background, left, is associate producer Megan Marcus, and right, producer John Zito.

Photo by, you guessed it! Roxanne Garcia, NBC News.

Finally, my favorite image of the trip, taken by Nightly News intern (and New Orleans native) Jed Strong, of Brian on set Monday. He's a junior this year at Northwestern, but he's already got quite an experienced eye.

In year's past, the beginning of hurricane season would be just a passing mention in most of the Gulf Coast region, perhaps just a sentence at the end of a weather report, an "Oh, by the way, do you know what today is?" kind of thing. But that was before Katrina. She changed everything. 

Nowadays, with the flipping of the calendar page to June the collective tension in the area has risen. Instead of typical summertime talk of vacations and backyard barbecues, you're more likely to hear about evacuation plans and survival kits. No one wants to be caught unprepared.

In New Orleans, still struggling nine months later to put the pieces back together, the mere thought of another storm is enough to make residents weak in the knees. Katrina killed 1,578 people in Louisiana alone, and no one is willing to take this season lightly. Everyone is being urged to plan ahead; to lay out a personal survival plan that takes into account what they'd do, and where they'd go should another storm threaten. The common wisdom is, it won't take much this year to send people scattering for safer ground. Any Category 2 hurricane or above threatening New Orleans will prompt a mandatory evacuation order from city officials. An elaborate, though not universally praised, plan is now in place to get people out. It involves everything from a centralized check-in center, where evacuees will be given scannable ID bracelets, to transportation out of the danger zone for pets.

Adjacent St. Bernard Parish won't even wait for a storm to reach hurricane strength before putting emergency plans into motion. The residents there who are living in trailers (the majority of the parish at this point) will be required to leave at the threat of a mere tropical storm. The memories of crumbled levees, and streets filled with water will be a greater impetus for people to pack up and go, though.

Historically, June and July aren't very active months for hurricanes in the Gulf of Mexico. In fact, in 150 years a hurricane has never hit New Orleans in June; only three in July. It's the thought of what could come later in the season that has people here on edge. June 1 is just an arbitrary date. There are no storms brewing as this season begins, no watches or warnings posted anywhere. But everyone in the region will be much more comfortable when instead of looking ahead from today, they are looking back from November 30, the last day of hurricane season.

Just nine months after Katrina, yet another hurricane season starts today. Is the region ready? We'll have reports from Florida to Texas... and tell you about some of the ominous warnings officials have already voiced. Brian reports again tonight from New Orleans.

Tonight will find us in Orleans Parish, along the banks of Lake Pontchartrain. The backdrop for our live broadcast is a lot like the mantra here: Katrina might as well have been yesterday. There has been no attempt to clean up the wreckage, still fresh, that you will see behind us at our camera location.

In tonight's broadcast: the long-delayed U.S. opening to Iran... David Gregory will head up our reporting. Also today, the president commented for the first time about the killings at Haditha in Iraq. Martin Savidge will join me here for a status report heading into tomorrow's first day of hurricane season. I will speak with New Orleans native Walter Isaacson on the recovery effort and we'll report on Lance Armstrong's news today.

I saw Harry Shearer at today's event. Harry, a great and talented entertainer and writer is also a veteran blogger. He has had his issues with our coverage in the past (on one issue in particular involving the initial construction of the levees) and so we will interview him tomorrow and include his comments in our coverage of the status of the levee and pump repairs going on here.

Special thanks to the folks at Tulane University (the largest employer in this city) for hosting me today as part of a day-long seminar on the lessons learned and the future direction of civic planning and re-building in this city post-Katrina. I was deeply honored to be the latest recipient of the president's medal -- awarded by the entirely too generous President of Tulane, Scott Cowen. I apparently now hold one of only 10 such medals ever awarded -- and I tried to explain that those most deserving of this honor are those we will probably never meet: the Coast Guard chopper pilots, the women who kept the babies alive inside Charity Hospital, the volunteers and public servants of every stripe, who stayed on the job to lift this city out of a nightmare.  Having said that, it was a humbling day at Tulane.

Editor's note: Donna Gregory is on assignment in New Orleans for MSNBC-TV.

NEW ORLEANS - Tragicomedy is the right word for it. It's the feeling of that first holiday you spend after a loved one dies. There's music, special food, celebration and sadness. Sadness for those who've been lost. Sadness for those who can't come back. And here, a sadness for the loss of innocence that comes with the realization that the party didn't last forever.

Watching the children grab beads tossed from passing carnival floats, it's easy to forget that most of the kids haven't come back.  More than half the pre-Katrina population is still gone. Few public high schools in the area are open, so the marching bands are sparse at best. Many out-of-town bands had to stay away, since there's no room at the inn for the players and chaperones.

There aren't as many parades this year, but there is a new, somber one that's drawing camera-toting crowds. It's the parade of tourists through the devastated 9th Ward and St. Bernard Parish. They line up in their rented SUVs and creep along, snapping shots and cell-phoning them back home. They see for themselves why this city needs so much more help, more money, more compassion. The glitz of the carnival can't mask the tattered truth just a few blocks outside the party zone.

Yet still, they celebrate. It's part of the culture here during the best of times, and they're not letting it wash away with the floodwaters. So they suit up in their purple, green and gold armor, and battle the twin demons of doubt and despair. They rally to reclaim the city they love, and numb the pain with excess: trinkets, tackiness and all that jazz... washed down with cafe au lait and a beignet.

Really, where else would you find a costume show with designer outfits fashioned from  FEMA blue tarps? It's another symbol of "Re-New Orleans"... a brand new Mardi Gras spirit in the city where the locals will make the good times roll once again.

From the outside it looks like the most free-form, free-floating party in America, but don't let appearances fool you -- the *real* Mardi Gras has special rules, strange customs and a language all its own. Here's a brief vocabulary lesson:

Krewes -- Krewes are the leaders of New Orleans' society, and they ride floats, throw balls and hold other events during the season. They often wear masks to keep their identity  secret -- a tradition dating back to Roman times.

Rex -- Every parade has a king, but there is only one king of carnival, and that is "Rex." Rex's parade is the climax of Mardi Gras.

Zulu -- The Zulu parade is the first parade on Mardi Gras morning. Zulu, or the oldest African-American krewe, is one of the most recognized krewes in New Orleans, with its first recorded reference in 1909.

Mardi Gras -- French for "Fat Tuesday," the final and most elaborate day of the Carnival season.

Lundi Gras -- French for "Fat Monday," the day before "Mardi Gras" when Rex meets Zulu to kick-off Tuesday's celebration

Throws-- stuff thrown off the floats to the spectators. Tradionally, it's coins and beads. In recent years, stuffed animals, plastic drink cups and other trinkets and toys have been added. Spectators develop special yells and techniques for collecting the most throws.

Doubloon -- a plastic coin with the "krewes" name on one side and the parade theme on the other.

Flambeauxs -- At the night parades, you'll see flambeaux, or torch, carriers. They are "keepers of the light" and light the way for parades.

Neutral Ground -- Some of the revellers are standing on what most of us would call the "median strip"in the road. But here it's called the "neutral ground." When the city was divided between the French and Americans, it was the one place where the two sides would meet peacefully.

And if there is one word they would like to strike out of their vocabulary, even for just a few hours -- it's "Katrina."

Editor's note: Hoda wrote more about this first Mardi Gras after Katrina in Dateline's blog. You can read it, and watch a web-exclusive video log about her return to New Orleans by clicking here.

Remember the warnings after Katrina struck, that thousands of phony Web sites had cropped up, pretending to raise money for hurricane relief? Since then, it turns out that federal prosecutors have charged just one person with running such an Internet scam, out of the roughly 70 indicted for fraud since early September. 

The one Internet case, brought last month in Florida, is a doozy. Federal agents accuse a man of pulling in nearly $40,000 by soliciting contributions on a Web site, claiming to be a pilot flying relief supplies into the hardest hit areas. On his "Air Katrina" site, prosecutors say, Gary Kraser posted emotional and vivid-sounding accounts, purportedly from his own experiences flying supplies in and victims out: "I saw people on their roofs. I'm so sorry I couldn't do more. I'm shaking as I write this, crying and hugging my dog next to me now. I will hear these screams for the rest of my life." 

Pretty good trick, investigators say, for a guy who didn't even have a pilot's license and never got closer to the scene than his apartment in Aventura, Fla.

Nearly all of those charged with hurricane fraud are accused of posing as victims who lost homes or property. Most of them have been indicted for filing phony claims with FEMA, though 30 are accused of running a scam in Bakersfield, Calif. that hit up the Red Cross call center there by making phony claims. Two others are charged with pretending to be Red Cross volunteers and soliciting disaster relief contributions outside a storefront in California.

State prosecutors have brought some Internet scam charges of their own, but only a handful of cases have been filed. Federal officials say many of the web scams originated overseas, making prosecution here all but impossible.