Blame Mother Nature

I grew up in Illinois along the Fox River where there were lots and lots of trees. What could be better? In my backyard there was a large weeping willow tree that I thought of as exclusively mine.

Oh, how I loved that tree—sitting under it, climbing it, just looking at its grace and lush beauty in the breeze. I could get lost in its branches when I would climb up into its arms to read a book, or think, or hide and escape from the world. In the winter its long icicled branches would shimmer in the sun as they danced in the winds. That's a whole lot of bling!

When I grew up, I continued to love trees and nature. I named my four daughters for the beauty I found in nature because I thought they were such breathtaking creatures when they were born. Afton was named for a beautiful river in Scotland, Willow was named for my cherished favorite tree, Treesje's name just reminds me of trees because of how I spelled it (although years later we found out it actually means “little” in Dutch), and Torrey was named for the most rare Torrey Pine tree that I fell head over heels for---in all the world they only grow in San Diego and Santa Rosa Island.

I would like to think the girls like their names, but if they don't it's not my fault. Blame Mother Nature.