I met a girl, or a young woman, I should say, this April. She checked me out at the grocery store, and as she did so, I noticed her name. “April!” I thought, I’ve never met anyone named “April” in April, before, and I told her so. She said she was born on the 30th of April, and that’s how she got her name. It happened again, a woman named “Willow” crossed my way, yesterday. She didn’t say how she got her name.
I happen to like names of people, for months, or flowers, or even trees. There’s May, June, Julie for July, and Augusto, for August. Not sure if I’ve met anyone named September, October, or November, December, January, or February, either. And never March! Tuesday I’ve heard, and Summer, as well. Rose, Ivy, and Wishing Well.
Seems a Victorian custom, to me. Then, the Industrial Revolution came. You don’t come across anyone named Brick, Cement Mixer, or Hammer, or Nail, or Screw Driver, for that matter. Now in the 21st century, you never meet anyone, named, Hard Drive, or Soft Ware. What will the future bring? Mother Nature still rules the Universe.
On Tiffany Creek 