s our skipper slowly turns the boat toward the dock along the bank, a flutter of wings catches my attention in the canopy of the adjacent Ana tree. My brain-eye coordination is still set on “bird spotting mode”, even though our water adventure has come to an end for the day. There, in the lofty canopy, I see the characteristic mohawk-style wispy crest of a Turaco. And I get so very excited. The sun's incessant glare means my feathered friend is silhouetted against the bright sky, but I know that silhouette, and in the Zambezi Region there is a bird with a similar outline that tries to outsmart me on each visit. The Schalow's Turaco.
