Alex Harris - Miami Herald

Hurricane season doesn’t officially start until June 1, but in recent years named storms have been popping up ahead of schedule more and more often.

Flooded streets have become such a way of life in South Florida that most people wade right through the puddles. Sometimes, when the ponds are a bit deeper, they even pull out kayaks, paddleboards or wakeboards.

As an unnamed storm drenched Miami-Dade earlier this month, some people were shocked to find themselves suddenly sloshing through floodwaters creeping into homes or apartments.

Florida solar installers are scrambling for panels amid a nationwide market slowdown, and some are turning to older, less efficient models to get the job done.

Over the last 40 years, North American cars and power plants have gotten cleaner. They spewed far less pollution into the atmosphere, a difference visible by satellites.

When Hurricane Michael tore through North Florida in 2018 as a Category 5 storm, it left more than 3 million acres of felled trees in its wake.

Senior citizens have always flocked to Florida’s sandy shores, but the one that showed up last week really stood out. It’s — quite literally — a tough old bird.

Along most of the historic South Florida coast, mangroves were nature’s way of protecting the coast from waves and hurricanes. As development inched closer to the water, seawalls became the method of choice to separate land and sea.

Seawalls, despite more natural innovations like “living” shorelines, aren’t going anywhere in Florida — except up.

As sea levels rose from climate change, a new study found, flooding in the underground garage at the beachside Champlain Towers South became more common. Much more common.