Signs of Life

As yet another cold snap hits the Bay area, I'm pleased to report that the plants in My Florida Backyard are soldiering on, and even the slowest to recover are finally beginning to show some green.

The hibiscus has been the slowest of all to show some improvement, but in this weekend's warm sun, I noticed some leaf buds finally beginning to break along the branches. If we could only get some more warm sun, instead of these everlasting 50 degree days, the hibiscus would be putting out large green leaves in no time.

The Christmas Cassia is also starting to recover nicely, coming back from the ground slowly but surely. I'm working hard to get some cassia established in My Florida Backyard this year as larval plants for sulphur butterflies. I'm hoping Florida's hot summer will help this plant be a small shrub by the time late fall rolls around. Sulphur caterpillars are some of my favorites, and I'd really like to be able to raise some bright yellow beauties when the Christmas Cassia flowers late in the year.

The Candlestick Cassia is coming back as well, giving me hope that it will be able to rival its former glory by summer's end. We actually had a bunch of sulphur eggs on the Candlestick Cassia around New Year's, but the freeze, of course, made short work of both plant and eggs, leaving us to start again from scratch and hope for better luck next time.


Gardening in My Florida Backyard for the last few months has been all about waiting and hoping. It's nice to see some of that waiting and hoping pay off, although we just can't wait for this wretched winter to finally end!

The Way We Were

I was looking back through some old pictures, and couldn't help missing My Florida Backyard's gardens in their prime. This winter is really dragging on forever, so for now, we just have to enjoy the...

Memories...

Like the corners of my mind.

Misty water-colored memories

 

Of the way we were.

 

Red Wing

This winter has been pretty ridiculous across the entire country - there's snow on the ground in 49 states right now (but not here, thank goodness). We're expecting yet another week of below-average temperatures here in Tampa, ushered in by a very rainy, windy, and chilly day today. 

When I looked out the window this afternoon, there seemed to be nothing but gray, gray, gray to see. Then, on the feeder, was that familiar flash of red - a cardinal dropping by to brighten up the afternoon.

A picture through the window screen never turns out well, but the flash of color is still evident. I'm so grateful for visitors like this who help keep My Florida Backyard cheerful when the weather is dismal!

This Bud's for You

On honor of Superbowl Sunday, today we salute the Eastern Redbud (Cercis canadensis) tree. (Not following the logic? Superbowl = Beer Drinking = Budweiser = Bud = Redbud tree. Too much of a stretch for you? Too bad!)

My Florida Backyard isn't fortunate enough to have one of these beauties, but a neighbor down the way has one, and we can enjoy the view for free.

Native redbuds are deciduous and in Florida are often considered an early sign of spring. The redbuds began to bloom a week or two ago, and are reaching their peak now. Click here to see some nice up-close shots of redbud blooms taken in the MOSI gardens by a friend of My Florida Backyard.

About a month after the Great Freeze of 2010, most things are recovering nicely. The grass is green again, many plants are putting out new shoots and buds, and the sun is warm on our backs even if the breeze is still a bit cool. Spring is here in My Florida Backyard, and it's nice to have a redbud tree nearby to confirm it!

(Sorry for the blurry picture - it's really hard to get a clear picture of a tree on a windy day!)

Sounds from Home

Some of the visitors to My Florida Backyard are quiet and peaceful. Butterflies glide in and out without making a sound; birds like ibis and egrets wander through with nary a peep. Others make soft sounds, like the coo of mourning doves. Still others are noisier, like squabbling ducks or the ubiquitous limpkin.

Some animals make noises all out of proportion to their size. Squirrels are a terrific example of this. Here in Florida, squirrels seem small to those from up north. To deal with the summer heat, most mammals are smaller here than in cooler climates. The size of our squirrels makes no difference when it comes to noise, however. Whether they're racing across the back porch screen, screeching away at neighborhood cats, or chattering to each other over sunflower seeds, it's amazing how much noise these little creatures can make.

Frogs and toads are also surprisingly noisy. On a quiet afternoon recently, I heard the constant croaking call of a frog as I sat in the living room. I was pretty sure it wasn't in the house, so I went searching for it outside. Down along the lake shore, I found it, dozing in a patch of sun and croaking lazily, as if from habit rather than necessity.

On a spring or summer night after a rain, the frogs really ramp it up. We've had times when their calls are so noisy as to prompt us to close the windows so we can hear the TV. Those very loud calls after rainstorms are often mating calls - hard to imagine any female in the area ignoring them!

Whether we can see it or not, nature is always with us. Even with your eyes closed, you can enjoy plenty of what nature has to offer - the warmth of the sun, the lingering fragrance of jasmine in the air, the chirp of cardinals feeding nearby. My Florida backyard offers them all, and plenty of sights to see as well.

Buried Treasure

While replanting some pots out front, we discovered some buried treasure:

What the heck is it, you might ask? Why, it's a sphinx moth cocoon, I reply. It's quite big, several inches long and thicker than my thumb, and the segmented end tends to wiggle when you touch it. The "handle" on the right side is actually a sheath protecting the developing proboscis - that certainly gives you an idea of the size of the moth that will emerge.

(Quick Fact: In general, moths bury themselves and pupate as a cocoon, while butterflies suspend themselves from a silk pad and pupate as a chrysalis. Interestingly, most 5-year-olds know this, but most adults do not!)

Since we didn't see the caterpillar, we can't be certain which type of sphinx moth will eventually emerge from this cocoon. Moths pupate much longer than most butterflies, and it could be weeks or months until he shows his colors. We're keeping him safe in a jar on the back porch and will post pictures when the time comes!

Color My World

The last week or so has given us plenty of warm sunshine and soaking rain, and the world around My Florida Backyard is starting to come back to life. The grass is showing a haze of green and wildflowers like Spanish Needle are already back in force. It's inspired us to continue the "rehabilitation" of the yard by planting plenty of colorful nectar plants in the butterfly garden.

First up: some cheerful pink verbena.

I've never seen white lantana before, but I think I like it.

A photo just can't do justice to the delicate purple of this trailing bacopa.The wide variety of petunia colors and patterns never fails to amaze me.

I bought two calibrachoas last week, one in deep purple, the other in this dusky rose:
This yellow viola isn't really a nectar flower, but it seems just like sunshine in flower form,
and I couldn't pass it up.

Added to the yellow snapdragons I planted last week, these plants have perked up My Florida Backyard and our hearts as well. Lady Bird Johnson said, "Where flowers bloom, so does hope." Couldn't have said it better myself.