Climate & Environment

New Times goes hunting for Miami’s new urban legend: Iguana Bandannicus, the bandannaed iguana.

Environmental groups have cited concerns about a potential oil spill.

An old water main burst in downtown Miami, spewing sediment into Biscayne Bay and pausing Metromover service in the area.

The helicopter gender reveal was dubbed “THE MOST EPIC REVEAL EVER.”

The 2020 Atlantic hurricane season shattered record after record.

The mishaps collectively discharged nearly 1.7 million gallons of untreated wastewater into Biscayne Bay.

Instead of reading the room and graciously calling it a night, that straggler Eta is just going to kind of… hang out for a bit.

Eta could deliver between six and eight inches of rain to Miami-Dade, with up to 15 inches in isolated areas.

A new study finds that the Miami Wilds project, due for a vote October 20, may threaten endangered bats with extinction.

“I wanna see them arrest me for trying to feed starving cats,” says 74-year-old Arlene Bercun.

Over the past seven months, viewers have come to recognize and name the fish who call the reef home.

shark finning is the grisly practice of slicing the fins off live sharks, then throwing the sharks back into the ocean to die.

International conservationists say a proposed water park in Miami-Dade could endanger one of the nation’s rarest bat species.

You might just smell the Medley landfill before you see it.

Like a college-age guy, a Florida bird species has adapted to survive on a diet of chicken wings, hot dogs, and chicken nuggets.

The federal Nuclear Regulatory Commission has begun a “special inspection” of Turkey Point.

In the past decade, the State of Florida has spent at least $20 million cleaning up and preventing algal blooms.

That’s about the weight of one and a half grand pianos. Or nine beer kegs. Or 15 toilets.

What would you name a pet bat? Batthew McConaughey? Queen Elizibat? Ludwig van Bathoven?

Tropical Storm Laura is the earliest L-named storm, a record previously held by Luis, which formed on August 29, 1995.

It’s been almost two weeks since dead fish started floating to the surface of Biscayne Bay.

The public outcry ruffled feathers within city administration, even prompting the mayor to remark that “the optics on this were terrible.”