June: Hottest month on record for S. Fla

In case anyone in South Florida didn't get the memo, it's been the hottest June on record. I can attest to that; I got prickly heat and the beginnings of heat exhaustion working in the yard this month. The latter is a first. Yikes!

The South Florida office of the National Weather Service also notes that Junes' record breaking heat -- averaging 85.5 degrees -- actually resulted in the hottest month ever! (Last August was the previous record at 85.4 degrees.)

No wonder my winter annuals gave up the ghost so much earlier than usual, as the photo of a miserable, sun-bleached trailing geranium indicates.

For those who want the gory details, you can read the NWS update here.

Stemmadinia littoralis: An ideal tree for a small, tropical garden

"Lechoso" is a small tree, native to Central America, that's gaining well-deserved popularity; Fairchild Garden made it the 2009 Tree of the Year. It has an open habit and produces delightfully perfumed white flowers throughout the warmer months. Ideally, it should be planted near open windows, outside seating, or somewhere you can benefit from the scent.

I planted mine a few years ago and it's about 12' tall, now. The literature says it will reach about 20'. It's shaded from the strong afternoon sun by an oak. Apparently, it's happier with the shade, but other than that, it doesn't require any maintenance, being quite happy to do its own thing.

Another benefit is that it didn't seem to suffer much from the freeze, despite getting the full force of the northwesterly wind. It dropped some leaves, but it's blooming again now. That makes me think it might work in Zone 9 in a sheltered spot.

Laundry

How can one garden and not use a laundry line?

Death and life in the garden

I was at my potting bench this afternoon when a commotion at the top of a coconut palm caused me to turn just in time to see birds scattering and a broad-winged hawk flying off with a victim in its talons. Small, downy feathers drifted to the ground.

This morning, there was a dead Muscovy duck in the water that looked like part of it's underside had been ripped off. I'm wondering if there's a gator or a croc back in the lake. I haven't seen any ducklings for a while, which adds to my suspicions.

The effects of the long cold spell continue. The cold chilled the waters deep enough to cause a massive fish die-off, and for a while the stench of decay wafted up from the canal where dead fish -- and iguanas -- floated past.

It also stayed too cold for the iguanas to revive. I haven't seen the monster at the top of his tree since the freeze. Vultures are flying low, spoiled for choice of dinner. Much as I regret the loss of life, gardens around South Florida will benefit from the reduction in their numbers.

Coconut fronds have turned brown and continue to drop in large numbers, but I don't think that the palms themselves will die. Before a palms drops a frond, it pulls out the nutrients, leaving a dry, brown skeleton to fall. In a healthy palm, the lower fronds die first, as is the case here.  Even so, they're still heavy and they can damage the plants below. Last week, a frond split the trunk of a prized croton.

But enough of the gloomy news;  the Clerondendron quadriloculare, the starburst or shooting star clerodendron (below), is in flower, and orchids and bromeliads are about to bloom, too. Plus, I heard a mockingbird singing its heart out the other day. Twitterpating 2010 has begun!

Seeing the garden after the big chill

I was out of town last week when the coldest nights for a couple of decades hit. My first reaction on seeing the garden was that there was much more light that usual. All the non-native trees are losing  their leaves, which, according to my husband, only started happening on Saturday. Unlike fall in temperate climates, these leaves are still green so the trees have dropped a ton of nutrients. I'll leave them to break down in place, and I hope the roots take back most of what was lost. New leaves will appear soon, so I'm not worried.

My natives, the oaks and mahogany, don't seem to be affected at all, but they may simply take longer to show stress. The avocado's response was to drop  its remaining fruit. There's so much that even the squirrels can't get to it all.

My next reaction was, "Phew!" Although there is plenty of damage, most plants should recover. Even the orchids my husband left attached to tree trunks are better than I expected. I'm attributing this to two things: First, the wind came out of the northwest and directly over the lake, and that may have had an ameliorating effect on low level plants. (There's more damage higher up.) Second, the red pavers, which cover much of the yard as paths and sitting areas, may have retained and released sufficient heat to keep frost at bay.

Raining iguanas? Really!

To paraphrase humorist Dave Barry, "I was not making it up." The Herald finally got around to putting something on the Web. Here's the video.

It's raining .... iguanas??

The AP has a story about the cold in the South, ending with a couple of paragraphs about iguanas, stupefied by the cold, falling out of trees. It happens most years in these parts. It's one of those things that goes with cold weather and always makes us laugh. (Well, they don't belong here, after all.)

A couple of years ago, one of The Herald's photographers had been dispatched to take pix and he came back with a bright green one, about 14" long, in his pocket. It was just beginning to revive in the warm newsroom.

I forgot to check the neighborhood this morning for any on the ground, but in the meantime, here's a picture of the monster that lives on the other side of the canal where he suns himself at the top of a tree and wards off all rivals.

Miami (temperature) blues

Brrr! It's even chilly in Havana! While this may be a subject of mirth to those familiar with snow, hard freezes and below-zero wind chill temps, it's a serious problem for those of us who grow cold-averse plants. (There's a reason you don't see snow on coconut palms.) The Miami office of the NWS put out a statement earlier today saying this might be the longest cold spell for 15-25 years. Already, my aglonemas have keeled over from a combination of strong, cold wind, low temps and, I suspect, rambunctious dogs; these plants are usually dense, upright, and beautiful.

Most of the plants in my garden, including the orchids, will survive temps that fall into the low 40s for a night -- or even two, as long as it warms up in the daytime. But this week, with yet colder weather forecast, look like a disaster in the making. It doesn't help that I'll be out of town for a week leaving my husband, who has limited skills -- and even less interest -- in maintaining the garden (although he does appreciate the results of my efforts), to institute an "action plan" to prevent a calamity.

Winter in Miami

It's always odd to see Miamians wrapped up against the winter cold, and it must be a real shock for tourists expecting to prostrate themselves before a hot sun on the beach, but it is cold today and will be colder tonight with a freeze warning for interior regions of Broward County (Fort Lauderdale) and north. It's been more than 20 years since downtown Miami had a frost; I remember ice on the bird bath. It killed so many precious plants.


Today, it's grey, matched by the oak and Spanish moss above, but I came across one glorious bright spot out on my bike ride with Sparky the dog. It's one of the most colorful crotons I've seen, beautifully framed by the silver grey leaves of a young Bismarckia noblis palm.

Vultures (with feathers)

A couple of turkey vultures were arguing over a possum carcass in the road a few houses along. There was a lot of commotion and clashing of wings before they sorted it out, and then a car drove one off, leaving the feast to the other. I walked over to what was left of the possum (be glad you didn't smell it), which caused me to wonder whether vultures, like raptors, have exceptional eyesight, or whether they have exceptional smell -- or both. Questions, questions.

If you live in suburban South Florida (and assuming you even notice them), you probably like seeing vultures wheeling around the sky. Vultures, turkey vultures specifically, are harbingers of the fall; they arrive from somewhere in the Midwest or Northeast in the first week of October, bringing with them the blessed promise of cooler weather. Except in the immediate aftermath of a hurricane, I don't think it's ever cooled down before the "buzzards" show up.

The occasion used to be celebrated annually on the steps of the courthouse in downtown Miami, which is where dozens choose to roost at night. As tall buildings went up around the courthouse, the vultures roosted there, too. The Herald wrote a story about very expensive lawyers in very expensive penthouse offices not appreciating vultures resting outside and spoiling their otherwise very expensive view. Oh, the irony!

If you do look up, watch these masters of flight as they ride thermals and glide across the sky with the rarest flap of a wing. On the ground, though, it's another matter. These huge birds, ungainly as they are ugly, are positively comical as they lumber along the ground preparing for takeoff. Sadly, this is when the vultures themselves become road kill.

Rainy night

I forgot to put the wheelbarrow away yesterday evening. We must have had at least 4 inches of rain over night. No wonder mushrooms are erupting everywhere.

Scarlet and gray

The rainy weather affords some dramatic contrast. In this case, the brilliant red against a dark stormy sky was stunning.

I need to learn how to use my camera properly, because the automatic setting didn't really do it justice. You'll just have to take my word for it, but keep your eyes open for your own examples.