Names, Trees, and a Crow
Months ago (not too many, actually- it seems like it’s been far longer than it has) I picked out a tree- or, more accurately, two similar trees- that stand right outside my gate. I wrote a few lines of poetry about my tree (I mention this briefly in my post about Tree Books). Now, I’ve come to assess how it’s changed.
As I sit here, on my little stone bench right inside my house’s gate, and look at the tree just outside it, I can hardly picture what it used to look like. Ages ago (again, not too long, I’m just using poetic license) my trees were covered in petals I described as the ‘color of pink flush on a young face’. They were soft, light pink, and had a certain poetic beauty to them. But the seasons have taken their toll. Over time, these petals dripped to the ground, until our driveway was hidden underneath a soft, pink rug. But wind swept that rug away, and now my tree, while the same in graceful stature and size, has only rugged purple leaves, just as beautiful, but in a wizened, stronger way.
More on my tree later.
To me, names are quite complicated things (this could partially be because I’m reading a book called The Name of the Wind that discusses briefly ‘true’ names of objects and natural forces in relation to magic- highly recommend the book, by the way, it’s a stunning display of Victorian-era-esque fairy tales mixed with modern writings- but I’m getting off topic).
When I think of ‘names’ I think of more than a (metaphorical) coat of paint over a much deeper-running personality and mind. Names are a facet of someone’s personality, and are one definition of that person or thing. And I realize that names aren’t anything compared to personality, and that they’re rather trivial in the big picture, but names mean quite a bit to me.
My name is Maya. I have thought before that my name is a bit bland, or common, and not fascinating or strange, but for the most part, I’m quite satisfied with it.
Maya has many confusing definitions in many languages, and I can’t possibly name them all, so I’ll try to summarize as best I can.
The most common meaning of the name Maya I’ve found is one with Hindu origins. Maya means ‘dream’, ‘illusion’, or ‘magic’ in Sanskrit. Maya is also considered an alternate name for Lakshmi, the Hindu goddess of wealth, love, beauty, and joy. Pretty cool, huh?
Greek and Roman mythology both also mention the name Maia. Maya is a daughter of the Titan Atlas, and the mother of Hermes (in Roman mythology, Mercury). In Greek, Maya/Maia means ‘Good Mother’. I’m not so sure how I feel about that one… I may not even be a mother in my lifetime. The Romans believed that Maya was the Earth’s mother and a goddess of Spring, named after the month of May.
Maya is ‘water’ in Hebrew and can also mean ‘from God’. I’ve also read that Maya means great or larger in Latin.
So, yeah, a whole lot of origins and definitions, and I didn’t even cover them all. I’m not too surprised though, because Maya is a fairly common name.
I wrote earlier that we’d touch on my two trees again- and here we are! For this part of my post, I’ll write a short story about my two trees and a creature I found at school.
It was springtime, I believe, when I first met those two trees. They’re fairly normal, for trees, I’d say. And I’ve seen quite a few trees in my time. I’m a traveling crow. Even as a little birdie, you could never keep me in one place. I’ve been to two-legged schools (crazy, awful places), large, boring slabs of stone the humans think make them look important, and beautiful Caribbean islands where the sparkling sea hugs golden sand under a warm sun all year ‘round. But back to the topic at hand. By themselves, these two trees are fairly normal, but put them together and they’re rather unique. I never did see two trees quite so… Disagreeable. Not to others, of course. On the outside, to dense humans, the only thing similar about them is their appearance and location. But we creatures of the wild, we know better than those humans. What a foolish lot they are.
“Hello!” I said, one lovely spring day. “I’m new around these parts. Fancy telling me your names, and the best sights to see?”
“Oh, of course! We love travelers.” The tree on the left (who was called Branch) said. “Speak for yourself. I also love travelers too, by the way.” That was Bud, the one on the right.
“Of course you do, that’s what I just said!”
“Well you needn’t say it for me!”
Seasons passed, and we began to get to know each other quite well. I’d come back ‘round the two-leg house where Bud and Branch lived in summer sometimes, or spring. I do love to see their beautiful flowers in bloom.
And no one quite made me laugh like those two trees who insisted on fighting with each other.
So, yeah. That was my pretty awful piece… Bye!
