Hornbills are such animated, curious creatures. Their sad song will rival a hadeda squawk any day. We had a flock of them visit here recently. It was early one Sunday morning in February. They started crying with the sunrise. They sang louder than roosters and hadedas put together. Not one hornbill, but what seemed like ALL of them. I was happy to be awake, but I’m not sure the rest of the neighbourhood enjoyed the Sunday choir. They swooped down past our veranda, some flying clumsily through the trees, while about five of them stopped to rest in the largest tree closest to our veranda. They peered at me, one eye at a time, past their big beaked snouts. So curious, so close, so quiet. No more squawking. Just hornbills and a human in silent conversation.

See if you can decipher from their expressions in this painting what they are talking about.