I recently removed some elderly hedges that were at the end of their life expectancy. After cutting down the five foot bushes I spent a couple days chopping and digging up the roots. I smoothed out the soil and covered my new planting bed with mulch while trying to decide what should go there.

This week, I walked out my front door and was greeted with a couple pops of green. My first thought was that somehow I missed a few persistent roots. Upon closer inspection I discovered that I am now a peanut farmer.

I already know who the culprits are, my noisy local flock of Blue Jays (Cyanocitta cristata). I don’t know anything about growing peanuts but I’m about to find out.

I figure if it’s good enough for a couple of our former Presidents (Jefferson and Carter) then it’s good enough for me! If all goes well, in four months the jays should get a 4000% return on their investment.

*Brought from Africa during the slave trade these legumes were originally called goober peas (derived from nguba, a Congolese word).

Hit a favorite fishing hole Sunday afternoon for a little relaxation. It was a very mellow outing, the fish decided not to bite until just before sundown (which is right when all the nasty bugs come out for a bite as well). We only caught a few Hardhead Catfish, not really edible but fun to pull in.

It doesn’t matter to me if I catch anything, I just enjoy being out in the fresh air and sunshine. Plus, I get to watch all the wildlife. A sleepy Red-breasted Merganser was the most unusual of the nearby birds. While I know they winter around here I don’t often see them.

But the highlight of the day was this smallish sea star (Echinaster sp.). Unlike the rocky coastline in the Pacific Northwest where I regularly spotted sea stars during low tide, I rarely encounter them here. This shallow, sandy coast offers less suitable habitat (there are offshore reefs but as of yet I haven’t explored those). It was a treat to watch this one shuffle among the rocks in an effort to stay under the outgoing tide.

I arrived early for work this past Saturday (it was a new location for me and I’ve learned to allow extra time because of this insane Florida traffic). Since I had some time to kill, I wandered behind the shopping plaza toward a little drainage in the hopes of spotting some interesting birds.

As I slipped through a break in the shrubs, I found myself in a forgotten orchard. Three large mango trees towered overhead and a spindly avocado was bearing fruit but they were all overshadowed by the flowering citrus trees.

Citrus blossoms are my all time favorite scent! I wasn’t alone in my appreciation for them, there were a number of pollinators busily flitting from bloom to bloom. As I stood there savoring the scent I tried to imagine the old home that once existed on that land.

The roar of traffic from the busy road nearby interrupted my daydreaming. I gathered a couple treats to take with me, some fragrant blossoms and a couple ripe citrus fruits. It was bittersweet to say goodbye to that little corner of disappearing Florida.

I was pleasantly surprised to discover this Gulf Fritillary caterpillar (Dione vanillae) in my front yard last week. As their other common name denotes, they use passion vines (of the genus Passiflora) as their host plants.

I converted my front lawn into a pollinator garden last Spring and have added more plants over time. My sister brought me two passion vines when she visited back in October (cuttings from her vines in Tucson).

Thankfully, the vines survived the frost in January and they are now supporting the next generation of flutterbies (my preferred word for lepidoptera). I’m a happy girl!

I came upon this Royal Tern (Thalasseus maximus) one sunny afternoon. It didn’t seem too concerned about my presence as the ablutions continued unabated for at least another ten minutes.

This is one of the largest tern species in my area. Easily differentiated from the similar Caspian Tern by the bright white forehead which is visible outside of breeding season.

The Latin binomial translates as sea greatest (though personally, it’d make more sense as great of the sea).

During January, the water temperature along the Gulf Coast dropped to a cool 60 degrees. Like me, our local sea cows (officially known as West Indian Manatees (Trichechus manatus)), aren’t fond of cold water. Though they appear quite blubbery, manatees do not have a thick layer of fat, most of their chest cavity contains their massive lungs.

Therefore, these floating potatoes migrate seasonally to warmer waters, often up rivers to one of Florida’s over 700 springs. I don’t blame them, those natural upwellings average 72 degrees year round.

Fortunately for the manatees residing in the Tampa Bay area, Tampa Electric’s Big Bend power generating station releases warm water every day. Even better, this output raises the local water temperature to a balmy 78 degrees.

I finally had a chance to visit the adjacent manatee viewing center this past weekend. Considering it was a chilly and breezy day, the manatees certainly were more comfortable than I was! While I’ve encountered manatees before this was my first time with such a large number of them.

As you might imagine, it wasn’t the most action-packed morning. Manatees can rest up to 12 hours a day. The highlights of the visit were watching Sheepshead fish eat algae off the backs of manatees and giggling over the constant stream of bubbles from manatee farts. Riveting, let me tell you!