Three birds: A vulture, a cardinal and a woodpecker 

How quickly the pace of the world moves. If you turn on the news, be prepared. Critics used to speak of the 24-hour news cycle, where politicians frame a message to rile up cable news viewers.

But in this era, the news happens on inverted time. As you are just discerning what seems to be happening in a morning news report, you are in ancient history. The actual news has already moved past this on x.com, and someone is upending the last hour’s story with a new trending topic.

Here at the weekly Beacon, the pace does seem to be quickening, much of it having to do with winter season. The challenge is that much of the island has recovered, but a large number of properties and people have not. Two speeds. The usefulness of a weekly is that at some point the time needs to stop, and we have to put all the words and photos into a package, and press the button to send it to our printer in Venice. (It is surprising how often we get asked, “Where do you print it?”)

You can make time stop, by the way. You can stop the press.

When you’re young, time seems to move slowly. Do we all remember how long summer seemed, or how many years we had to wait to get that driver’s license? Think back to 1980, or even 1990. Did you ever imagine what life would be like in 2025? Oh, so far away. We are here now.

How do we make the time stop or slow down? Often, it is only nature that can do it.

In the last week, this editor has encountered three notable birds, each determined, and bringing a slowdown that might be an antidote to the relentless pace of the world. Many seem to find relief in birds; the owl family living above the sign across from Lemon Bay High School is back, and seems to have a steady group of observers every day. Owlish-wise determination, above State Route 775.

Worry not, you wise owls. Perhaps the King James translation says it best:

“Behold the fowls of the air: for they sow not, neither do they reap, nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feedeth them.”

The first bird encountered was an injured vulture. Mid January, WINK News came to Placida to do a story on the dozens of black vultures that were eating fish in the Links golf course. The headline was so dire. One golfer was in complete despair; he had to be careful of the fish bones, and the droppings and vomit. But by this week, the vultures had all gone, the fish kill cleaned up.

A member of Lighthouse United Methodist, however, told us of one sole remaining vultures, obviously injured, walking about the course after the rest of the flock, called a “kettle” of vultures, had moved on, and left her. It is said that vultures can fly 100 to 200 miles in a day, and they had left the injured vulture to work on cleanups elsewhere. Monday, this editor spotted the vulture, halumphing along, poor old thing. The kettle had no time for the injured. Pity.

The second bird was a certain female cardinal, who could not understand that the reflection in the window at this editor’s house was but herself. Such determination wasted. Up close, inches away, her beak was so orange and wide. The bright reds of her mate’s plumage were perhaps back on the live oak, where they seem to live. Peck peck at the glass, a diversionary offer of berries refused, flatly. We hope she still had her husband, and was not a poor widow.

The last bird (actually two) was a red-bellied woodpecker, who stays and visits the coconut palm tree outside the porch here at the Boca Beacon. Those who come to Hudson’s and the Beacon can look up and visit with this woodpecker (and friend), who lodge in the coconut palm, near the sidewalk, the one with bougainvillea at its base. The woodpecker has made dozens of rings around the coconut palm, on which she pecks and pecks for hours a day. It is as satisfying and soothing as watching a fish tank, without the bother of cleaning or filters.

There is much discussion here of it being a sapsucker or red-bellied woodpecker. Look up and see for yourself.

The sapsucker(s) were here before the hurricanes of last year, and are now back. How did she manage, that determined little bird? According to IFAS, the Florida extension service, the birds are often migratory. The sap holes that they create not only give the birds a bit of sweetness, but can attract bugs as well, who then get stuck in their rings of tiny holes.

The rings of holes, in bands, are as even as a Wilton muffin pan. But for our woodpecker friend, this is both a savory and sweet muffin tin. Imagine his satisfaction in getting both a bug, and sap at the same time, all as good as a cocktail-time hors d’oeuvre.

Give us the ant-sap recipe please, Mrs. Woodpecker.

Garland Pollard is editor of the Boca Beacon. Email letters and comments to editor@bocabeacon.com.