I'm certified!

Hooray! The sign says it all. Note the gold label, which is the higher of the two classifications. (It's not difficult to qualify if you're an environmentally aware gardener.) 

The extension office in most Florida counties participates in the Florida Yards and Neighborhoods program.

My next goal is to have the garden certified as a Florida Backyard Wildlife Habitat, which is more complicated since there are forms to complete, a property survey -- with bird feeders, native trees, shrubs, and the like, all marked out -- to submit. Plus it will cost a whopping $5 for the sign.

County's Adopt-a-Tree program is a blooming success

Crowds come and go at the tree give-away

This tree give-away program rocks! And kudos to Miami-Dade's Department of Environmental Resource Management for setting it up some 10-plus years ago. It's given away hundreds of thousands of shade trees -- flowering, fruit, natives -- to home owners who are entitled to up to two trees per year.

It started after a survey indicated that Dade's tree canopy was a horribly low 10 percent. And then the citrus canker fiasco began and some half million backyard citrus trees were cut down by the state in order to protect the commercial citrus industry. Fail.

So DERM applied for canopy restoration grants, and the rest is history.

After we complete the paperwork, we stand in line in the hot, hot sun, waiting our turn. (I've done this enough times to be prepared with hat and long sleeves.)

We watch the trees being unloaded from one of the huge tractor trailers, which collect the trees from local nurseries contracted to grow them for the county. (The program is a boon to nurseries, too.)

Finally! It's my turn. But I arrived late for today's event (one of four, this year). By the time I got to the head of the line, only pigeon plum (Coccoloba diversifolia) was left, which is way too big for my yard. I sneaked back around to the education center where, hooray, there were three native Dahoon holllies (Ilex cassine)  -- the trees I had wanted -- on display. Dahoon holly is dioecious and I managed to get the only female, showing small green berries. So, I came away a happy camper. I will claim another tree at the next event.

And here's my holly, home and waiting to go in the ground.

Missing the merry month of May, Part II

Click beetles.

Unlike the click beetles of temperate climates, where the larvae -- wire worms -- do so much damage to root crops, these beetles are beneficial. But the best thing is that they're bioluminescent.

Pyrophorus noctilucus is found throughout Central American, the Caribbean, and South Florida, it's northernmost range. It's not a firefly. (Fireflies are now rare in urban South Florida, although you can find plenty in the Everglades.) It prefers places of fairly dense vegetation to light up, although I also find them on the wall under an outside light -- as in my very poor photos.

Click beetles, which get their name from the loud "click" they make as they right themselves from an upside down position, have two neon-green luminous "eyes" on their backs, or, technically, the pronotum. In May, you find them glowing under vegetation. When they fly, though, they expose another glowing spot on the abdomen that glows steadily in flight; unlike their distant firefly cousins, they don't "flash."

Before the hurricanes of 2005 destroyed my hammock, I used to lie out in the evening and watch them glide past; it was such a treat. This past May was horrendously hot and humid, and the skies were filled with too many skeeters to make it any fun.

I found some much better photos on this site.

And if you're looking for an excuse to come here, make it to see these unique beetles in the merry month of May!

A white-crowned pigeon visits

Actually, they're quite common in my neck of the woods, but they are considered "near threatened" throughout its range, which consists of the Caribbean islands and parts of coastal Central America. For once, habitat loss isn't the problem; it's hunting. At least they're protected now in the U.S. where  they're only found in Florida south of Lake Okeechobee and through the Keys.

This one's a juvenile; an adult is easily recognized by its bright white pate. If you click on the top image, the enlarged photo will show you where its white crown is starting to appear.

It hadn't quite got flying down, and was having a hard time landing on the bird bath. A smaller blue jay arrived, but the pigeon successfully shooed him off.

Karma and gardening

Once a week I go to a Tibetan Buddhist dharma center to work in the garden. Considering its location, just a few miles north of downtown Miami, it's a surprisingly big garden. At the moment, I'm the only person volunteering there, so until others get the gardening bug, things only just stay tamed.

I was there last Thursday. It was one of those days that make us remember why we live in South Florida: warm and sunny with the slightest chill on the breeze. I found a shady chair at the end of the garden, which has become totally wild, and gave myself up to the day. Butterflies, damsel flies, bees, citrus blossom, wild flowers. Even the city noise dimmed. And all the while, a mockingbird sang his heart out above me.

Buddhists say that experiencing moments like this is the karmic consequence of previous positive actions. Upon recognizing that, one immediately pays forward such "merit," asking that all sentient beings may, in turn, experience such peace.

Is your veggie garden ugly?

Well, my veggie patch wouldn't win any beauty pageant; the tomatoes have all fallen over in their useless tripod cages and weeds abound, but hey, it's still a lot of fun.

GardenRant.com had a guest post about ugly -- or neglected -- vegetable gardens that has set off quite a buzz in the garden-blogging world. Add your thoughts at the above link.

The accidental tourist: A rufous hummingbird

Well, this was an exciting visitor. He was about 15' up in one of my oaks and is actually the first hummer I've seen in the garden all season. After watching him (he was a juvenile male), through my binoculars, flick out his long, thin tongue at (presumably) passing insects, and swaying and bobbing on the branch, it occurred to me that he was not like the regular ruby-throated visitors.

When my neck was aching too much to continue watching, I did some research, went back to confirm, and of course, he'd gone.

Since rufous hummers are native to the left coast, I submitted a report to eBird.org.

Sorry, no pictures for this post, but do check the links for images and info.

Bob, the baby Eastern screech owl

If you're on Facebook, I urge you to find, and become a fan of, "Bob." He, and possibly some siblings, lives in a cavity nest in a mango tree in friends' backyard. Since the homeowners are Miami Herald photographers, the photos are spectacular. And Bob was born to be a star!

Cardinal

A lovesick cardinal is singing its heart out in the yard. If you're not familiar with the song, I recorded this the other day at Fairchild, where they could be heard all around the garden.

I took these photos last June of a pair that visited one of my feeders. Curiously, they alternated visits, never coming to the feeder together. Perhaps that was to ensure that one parent survived an unforseen attack.

Laundry

How can one garden and not use a laundry line?

The view from my desk

Working at my computer earlier today, I looked up to see white ibis balancing on the utility lines. They really don't look stable up there, but they made me smile.

The Australian pines behind offer a perching place to an osprey. I hear it calling to its mate frequently, but there's no nest.

Despite looking onto the street, I get a nice view from here.

Urban hens

These ladies, who look like Rhode Island reds, live about a mile from me. Four hens should provide a family of four enough eggs plus some for the neighbors.

Before moving to the US, I'd kept "Rhodies" in England where I remember letting them out of the coop on frosty mornings. Their feathers, all plumped up, were sometimes glistening with frost. They might have preferred this climate.