I’m starting to age I guess in that I’m enjoying more the sounds of my youth like a simple clockwork cuckoo clock. The timeless sound of the cuckoo bring back many memories. When I was a child, both my uncle and grandparents had cookoo clocks. I remember they were dark colored cases with ornate carvings but the bird that came out was brightly colored. I was told these were from the black forest in Germany.

I guess the Germans have a lock on authentic cuckoo clocks as when I got older, I went shopping for one and they were all German made clockworks. The new ones however were just like I remember. Darker carved woods on the outside with ornate carvings.

My parents had both a mantle clock and a wall clock that struck the quarter half and hour times. They were wonderful. Many people have fond memories about growing up. Foods, holidays, smells, and even sounds. I remember how our home was always breathing the sounds of our clocks. Even as an adult, going for visits brought me in many respects back to childhood days when hearing the constant patterned sounds of those time trackers. It was home!

Today, I have a grandfather clock, cuckoo clock, and several other clockwork type clocks all around my home. Yes, they aren’t as “accurate” as quartz timepieces or as fancy as the latest technology has to offer. But there’s something about their even pace, pendulums, weekly winding and yes, the announcement that time is marching on, that is somehow soothing. Almost melodic.

In the night, when every is asleep, I sometimes go down to the living room and just think. The clocks are busy, as always, pacing out time and announcing yet another quarter hour has past. It’s recognition of mortality, that some things don’t last, while others, like the cuckoo clock seem to last lifetimes.