I figure the gift of prophecy is like a seizure disorder. You have to go about your business, never knowing when it'll come over you. One moment you're in the crowd and the next you're all alone with this unknowable force. I presume Jonah's friends and neighbors are used to him; doubtless it grants you some prestige to be a prophet, but in practical terms you still have to do all the stuff your neighbors do, because you're still a subsistence farmer who uses barley as currency. Reading about the way Jonah would have lived has really gotten me thinking of this contrast between the sacred and the mundane. "Jonah's staring into space again. I guess God is talking to him."
I kind of imagine the dove as being Jonah's companion while he's burdened by a prophesy, and not at other times. So perhaps he experiences the sound of wings as an epileptic or a migraine sufferer experiences the aura before the attack. That's the idea I tried to capture in the second frame.
Or perhaps the gift of prophesy is like the gift of an itchy sweater, and you have to wear the sweater when Grandma visits because you want to make her happy, only Grandma is omnipresent so she is always visiting and you can never take the sweater off.