ネタ | machii-little道場 | コンピュータ | まにあ道

The Citizen Eco-Drive 295-69 on my wrist was a hand-me-down from my father. To say he "left" it to me might be too heavy a phrase—he’s nowhere near the age where one settles one's affairs. He simply dug it out of a drawer one day and tossed it to me: "Here, you wear it. My wrist has gotten thinner, and the strap keeps sliding down." The dial bears three faint scratches, resembling the lines on the back of an elderly person's hand; the strap is a replacement—cowhide, now stained a deep brown from years of sweat.

When I took the watch, it had stopped. The second hand was frozen at the 45-minute mark, and the date window showed a day I couldn't recall. "It’s been sitting there for months; the power must be gone," my father said. I casually asked if it needed a battery change, but he waved his hand dismissively: "It’s Eco-Drive—solar-powered. Just let it soak up some sun and it’ll come back to life." I placed the watch on the windowsill; it was a bright, sunny day. When I returned half an hour later, it was ticking again—the second hand moving steadily, as if nothing had ever happened.

This watch has traveled across much of China with me. It doesn't ring, doesn't remind me to reply to messages, and doesn't track my daily activity rings. It simply ticks—quietly and steadily. I once went to Qinghai with a group where everyone else wore smartwatches that tracked altitude, heart rate, and blood oxygen levels. I still had this watch on my wrist. The day we crossed a high mountain pass, the temperature plummeted; one by one, the smartwatches went dark. Some people switched to power-saving mode, while others simply took them off and stowed them in their backpacks. I glanced at my wrist—it was still ticking. In that moment, it didn't feel like a mere tool, but rather an old friend: a companion of few words, yet one that never let me down.

Put simply, Eco-Drive runs on light. Sunlight, artificial light, or even the faint glow filtering in on an overcast day—that’s all it needs to keep going. It isn't demanding; it doesn't nag you to charge it, nor does it require you to place it reverently on a wireless charging pad at night. You can toss it in a drawer and let it sleep; the moment it wakes and sees the light, it resumes ticking. It possesses a quiet resilience—much like the mountain folk who live by the grace of nature: they work hard for you without ever giving you attitude. I wore it while taking the postgraduate entrance exam, moving house, and waiting for someone by the roadside late at night. As the second hand completes a circle and the minute hand ticks forward, time here feels physical and tangible—not just digits flickering on a screen. Sometimes I stare at those three scratches, wondering if my father wore it into the workshop back in the day and bumped it against a bench vise. It has borne witness to so many moments shared between father and son, yet it never utters a sound.

It runs three seconds slow every day now. For a quartz watch, that counts as a failure. I took it to a repair stall; the technician opened the case back, examined it through a magnifying glass, and said the movement was fine—it was simply old, and its magnetism was a bit off. He asked if I wanted it demagnetized, but I declined. Let it run slow; the world moves so fast, yet this watch allows me to slow down.

A while back, I took it off and placed it on the bookshelf; the next morning, I found it had stopped at 2:00 AM. Thinking it had finally given up the ghost, I picked it up, gave it a shake, and set it under the desk lamp. It didn't let me down—seconds later, the second hand began to move again, like someone who had overslept being roused by the light, rubbing their eyes before continuing on their way.

I fitted it with a new nylon strap—black, and resistant to dirt. I tucked the old leather strap into a tin box, alongside my father’s old lighter. There are things whose merits are hard to articulate, yet you simply cannot do without them. It isn't my most expensive watch, nor the best-looking, but it taught me that the things that truly stay with you on your journey are never the ones that require constant, delicate coddling.

It needs only a little light to keep moving forward. In that regard, it is far more reliable than many things that claim to be "smart."

Smart watch battery 295-6900 For Citizen Eco-Drive 295-69 295-6900 CTL920F Rechargeable Battery