“The wind-up bird,” said my uncle. “What’s that?”
I explained simply about the wind-up bird, how it came to the tree out back once a day and made that spring-winding cry.
“That’s news to me,” he said. “I’ve never seen or heard one. I like birds, and I’ve always made a point of listening to their calls, but this is the first time I’ve ever heard of such a thing. You mean it has something to do with the house?”
“No, not really. I was just wondering if you’d ever heard of it.”

Haruki Murakami, “The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle”

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