… does it have large, heavy wings like a Hadada Ibis, with its ancient and forlorn cry, or is it as quick, bright and colourful as a Crested Barbet? Perhaps it is as silly as a guinea fowl, or does it watch us from unseen heights like a hawk it’s prey? Does it chatter like a plover in frantic flight or coo with the soft, velvety sound of a turtledove? Time flies … but to where, and from where?