"Koo
Koo, Koo Koo."
"What's
that??
"What
do you mean??," Michele said.
"That
sound - it sounds like a cuckoo clock."
"Yee
ah - ah - and you never heard one before?"
"Not
in a forest."
"You've
never heard of a cuckoo bird ?"
My wife, born in Germany, knew the sound and the bird well.
Me. I thought it only existed in the imagination
of old clockmakers. I never knew that it
was a real bird. I turn 65 years of age
in November.
The
cuckoo, which derives its name from its subspecies (the Cuculidae) not from
commentary on its mental state, evidently can be found almost everywhere with
the exception of northern places like my native land.
The most
common form haunts European woodlands like the venue for our conversation and
our hike that day, the Forêt d'Amboise.
Influenced with new knowledge, I looked at the forest and the experience of walking through it differently for the rest of the day. What started out as tranquil and commonplace suddenly seemed exotic and a little exciting.
I noticed wild
flowers and plants that you don't see in Canada, and I looked up at the gnarly
pine trees with a kind of wonder.
Later in the day, deer crossed our path, and I remembered that this was once the royal hunting grounds. I felt for a moment that we were having a 16th century experience.
Later in the day, deer crossed our path, and I remembered that this was once the royal hunting grounds. I felt for a moment that we were having a 16th century experience.
"You
know what?," I said. "I can easily imagine myself living in this
forest in medieval times, surviving on wild foods, and maybe poaching deer for
the poor like a kind of French Robin Hood."
"Koo
Koo, Koo Koo."
"What's
that ?"
"Oh,
nothing," Michele said.
