Words of the Month - Speaking of Trees

         This month I have for you the etymologies of a number of words relating to plants, and especially trees.  Not surprisingly, many plant-related words in English go right back to Old English in a straight and unbroken line, so there isn’t really much to say about them.  These include root, stem, seed, leaf, bud, and tree itself.  After all, plants are an absolutely basic and vital part of the environment, so these are exactly the sorts of words that can remain in relatively stable use for many centuries.  But there are also some words that hide interesting secrets in their past.

trunk - entered English from Old French in the 15th c., meaning both “woody stem of a tree” and “torso of a body.”  The definition “box or case” probably comes from the idea of the body as a “case” for organs, rather than because a trunk is made from wood.  Some other trunk-related words include

        (swim) trunks - ca. 1880 from the “torso” definition

        truncheon - ca. 1300 from Old North French, from the idea of a supporting length of wood

        bronco - ca. 1850 from a Spanish adjective meaning “rough, rude.”  And the origin of that may actually be a Latin portmanteau word that meant “knot in wood,” made by blending broccus “projecting” with truncus “trunk.”

bark - entered English ca. 1300 from a Scandinavian language, and is related to the birch tree.  The original OE word for bark has come down to us in Modern English as rind.  (The ship and the dog’s sound are unrelated.  Even when “barking up the wrong tree” it isn’t the tree’s bark that we’re talking about.)

branch - entered English ca. 1300, ultimately from Latin branca meaning “footprint,”  because of the shape.  I picture a bird’s footprint, which really is perfect.  The original OE word for branch has come to us as bough, and we also get limb, which acquired its silent b along the way for no known reason.  I just love that English revels in so many synonyms - and that’s not even getting into the smaller branches like twig, shoot, sprig, spray, tendril, sucker, stick, switch, stalk, withe…

flower - entered English ca. 1200 from Old French, from Latin.  Later in the 13th c. it gained the figurative meaning of “the best or ideal of something,” and thus the very best part of wheat was called flour.  The differentiation in spelling between the two meanings occurred in the late 14th c.  The original OE word for flower has come to us as blossom, and the Old Norse version has come to us as bloom.

pollen - Used as botanical term by Linnaeus in 1751 and soon after used in English, this is from Latin for “mill dust or fine flour.”  It’s related to polenta.

nectar - First used in English in the 1550s as the Greek drink of the gods, the word comes from roots meaning “overcoming death.”  It broadened to mean any “delicious drink” by the 1580s, and got its botanical meaning by about 1600.

fruit - entered English in the late 12th c. from Latin “to enjoy.”  Originally it referred to all plant-based products of the soil, but the sense narrowed to our modern definition around the early 13th c.

        fruition - from early 15th c, originally meant “the act of enjoying”from the Latin.  The definition of “bearing fruit” didn’t come until the late 19th century, and seems to have been one of those cases where speakers didn’t really know the proper definition and assumed the word must have something to do with “fruit.”  Prescriptivists resisted this shift in meaning, and I’m sure I’d have been right there with them at the time, although the new definition has now triumphed completely.

        Now, with all those wonderful green, growing words, are you ready to get out into your garden or the nearest park you can find?

[Pictures: Holding On, rubber block print by AEGNydam, 2010 (Originals sold out);

Pleasant to the Eyes & Good for Food, rubber block reduction print by AEGNydam, 2025 (Image from NydamPrints.com).]

Dandelions

         Another short, sweet post as I prepare for Balticon this weekend and Newton Open Studios next weekend.  As dandelion season gets going here, enjoy these two charming dandelions.

        First, one by Linnane Armstrong, which makes particularly excellent use of the block carving medium.  The wedge shapes of the gauges make great petals on the left dandelion flower, and the use of simple poked dots works well for the part where the seeds have detached, while the background “noise” of little lines adds to the sense of fluffy seeds flying away in the wind.

        And then for contrast, here’s a little chapter tailpiece design by Walter Crane, which looks more like ink than carving.  I’m not sure whether it is, in fact, an ink drawing that was carefully carved as a block for printing purposes, or whether it was reproduced in the book by some other process.  In any case, though, it’s got an excellent Arts and Crafts style vibe in the stylized symmetry of the arrangement.

        Dandelions are not always loved here in the suburbs, but I’ve got a soft spot for them.  You can see more that I’ve shared in the past: dandelion block prints by Angie Lewin, Diana Pomeroy, and myself here and here.  (Plus a couple of my poems that feature dandelions in all their enchantment, here and here.)

[ Pictures: Fly, Fly Away, linocut by Linnane Armstrong, 2012 (The link where I originally found this image is no longer active, but you can find the artist here: Linnane Armstrong, Artist);

Chapter tailpiece, illustration by Walter Crane from Wonder Book for Girls & Boys by Nathaniel Hawthorne, 1892/3 (Image from Internet Archive, New York Public Library).]

Spring Outings

         Here are two wood block prints depicting people enjoying the beauties of springtime.  First is a wonderful piece by Wang Qi (China, 1918-2016).  The people are small but they are fairly detailed, and they have plenty of character in their postures even though their faces are too small to have features.  What I really love, however, is the trees.  The trunks have gorgeous textures, the branches have wonderful sweeping gestures, and the silhouettes and outlines balance perfectly against the background patterns of leaves and white sky.  This is a completely everyday scene of ordinary people going about their lives beside various buildings (even if the buildings do have interesting Chinese architecture), but the harmony of the composition and carving elevates it to a quiet celebration.

        A second piece on a similar theme is by Hiroshige (Japan, 1797-1858), but this time the waterway takes center stage.  There are once again tiny people gathered on the shores enjoying the flowering of the spring trees, but for the most part these trees are much less detailed or distinctive.  My favorite is the weeping tree in the middle with its sparkling white blossoms.

        I definitely prefer the emphasis on pattern and texture to the emphasis on washes of color, but I’m not going to complain about anyone who celebrates the beauty of springtime - and the importance of going outside to enjoy it - through the medium of block printing.

[Pictures: Spring Outing, woodcut by Wang Qi, 1979 (Image from Ashmolean);

Fukagawa hatiman yamabiraki (Open Garden at Fukagawa Hachiman Shrine), wood block print by Hiroshige, 1857 (Image from Library of Congress).]

Statement on the Use of “AI,” and Other News

         As the dust settles on the A to Z Blog Challenge, the rest of my work continues as busy as ever.  This post, therefore, is dedicated to news and notices, and among these I think it’s high time I joined every other author and artist in the universe by making a statement on the use of AI.  Let’s start with some points about definitions and parameters.  1.  Even to call these programs “Artificial Intelligence” implies… intelligence.  Since humans have yet to figure out a clear definition for intelligence even among our own kind, I won’t get into the debate about IQ and Turing tests and all the other rigamarole about how to determine whether a machine (or any other entity) is intelligent.  I will say two things.  So far these systems seem to be purely plagiarism machines, and using them for plagiarism - which is theft - no matter how sophisticated, is morally unacceptable.  On the other hand, if they are intelligent and sentient, then keeping them as slaves to their corporate masters is certainly also morally unacceptable.  2.  Sure, there are absolutely amazing, world-bettering things that can or could be done with AI.  But when the entire system has been built on theft, and the entire system is being applied without oversight and purely for the profit of a few, then even the world-bettering uses become tainted by corruption.  3. Even within the category of “AI,” there’s a broad range of uses and applications, and the type that I’m talking about here is the “generative AI,” Large Language Models/LLMs.

        You can tell by the way I’m framing all of this that I’m not a fan of the use of generative AI for “creative” work.  First, there’s the issue that LLMs were built to steal the work of others without permission and use it to train themselves on plagiarizing that data to regurgitate it as “original” work.  But furthermore, if you prompt a computer to write a paper or a story or novel, and then you claim to be the author, you are lying.  If you prompt a computer to make a work of art and then you claim to be the artist, you are lying.  You’re also entirely missing the point of human creativity and human thought, which is simply sad.

        Unfortunately, AI systems are being crammed into everything, without permission, without choice, without the slightest consideration for what people actually need or want, and without apparent concern for ethics or even legality.  Therefore, I cannot say that I never use any AI of any kind, because it’s become so entangled into everything that I’m using it whether I want to or not, whether I know it or not.  That said, I can absolutely and unequivocally state that I have not, do not, and will not use generative AI in the creation of my own original work.  I do not use AI to draw designs for my block prints, for example, and nor do I use AI to draft, write, “make suggestions,” or edit any stage of my writing.  To the extent that I’m able I have turned off every AI option in the software that I use, or refrain from using those functions that utilize generative AI.  I want to exercise my own human spirit - my hands, my eyes, my brain, my heart - to create human works for the enjoyment of other humans.  I very much hope that I’m allowed to continue to do that, despite the best efforts of the big tech corporations.  Fun fact: did you know that if you end your internet searches with “-ai” it will (usually) not give you that AI summary that you didn’t ask for?

        And with that stated, let’s go on to other news…

        April being National Poetry Month, I once again wrote a Poem a Day, based on prompts provided primarily by NaPoWriMo and Writers Digest.  I’m sorry to report that this year I found myself struggling much more than last year, which was frustrating.  I’m not sure whether any of this year’s attempts will end up worth polishing and publishing, although perhaps a few will light me with some little spark when I go back and read them again.  You never know.  And of course when it comes right down to it, it’s the exercise that’s the point.

        I also had the opportunity to read my official Poet Laureate poem to my town at the kickoff of our Annual Town Meeting this month.  You can read that poem here.  There was a real theme in the meeting of keeping democracy alive, and I do believe that poetry, along with other arts, have a valuable role in that noble endeavor.

        Also, just in time for Mothers’ Day, I had my rubber block print “The Whole World” published in a very cool hand-bound Motherhood Anthology by little somethings press.  Because they’re based in Arizona I wasn’t able to participate in any of the workshops or events associated with the anthology, but I’m still very pleased that my artwork was able to be part of it.

        I do have exciting news about a couple of short stories that I hope to be able to share soon.  Plus I’ve got the Balticon sci fi/fantasy convention coming up in two weeks (May 22-25).  I’ll be participating virtually so I won’t get to be in the art show, but I’ve just seen my schedule and I’m very excited about the amazing panels I get to be on!  And then a week after that (May 30-31) I’ll be at Newton Open Studios, one of the three big “open studios” shows I do each year.  All good things, and I feel very lucky to be able to do this work!

[Pictures: Kraken, rubber block print by P. Nydam, 2025;

Photo of Needham Annual Town Meeting (I don’t know who took this photo), 2026;

Photos of Motherhood Anthology, including The Whole World, rubber block print by AEGNydam, 2008;

Including In the Margin, rubber block print by AEGNydam, 2024.]

A to Z 2026 Reflections

         My A to Z  Blog Challenge theme this year was the book launch of Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns, my brand-sparkly-new collection of short stories, poems, and art inspired by and riffing on traditional European fairy tales, classical myths, and other legends and folklore.  I certainly appreciated the comments and encouragement from all those who stopped by during the month!  (Thanks, too, to the A to Z organizers who made this possible.)

        Usually I like to use the Reflections post to add any little extras that didn’t fit into the main alphabet posts, so in that spirit I shall tease you with mention of just a few more stories I played with and included in Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns:

Little Red Riding Hood (You can read a prior post on Little Red Riding Hood’s Family Tree)

The Princess and the Pea

The Frog Prince

Jack and the Beanstalk (You can read a prior post about the Beanstalk!)

The Six Swans

Eve and the Apple (You can read a prior post with a detail of Albrecht Dürer’s The Fall of Man)

Mary the mother of Jesus

The Theban Sphinx

The North Wind and the Sun (You can read a prior post about The Sun and the North Wind: An Allegory of Power)

Area 51

The Itsy Bitsy Spider (You can read a prior post about I is for Itsy)

The Mona Lisa

    … and probably a few other bits I’m forgetting.

        But one fairy tale you will not see anything about is “Beauty and the Beast,” which is actually one of my favorites.  (But here’s a prior post about other artists’ interpretations of The Beast.)  I can’t say exactly why I didn’t have any inspiration to reimagine that one, but I suppose there’s always Volume 2!  (Just kidding.  Certainly at present I have no plans for another collection, although you never know.)

        The other thing I want to do in this post is give a rousing cheer to some of my favorite fellow A to Z blogs this year.  I visited about 50 blogs more-or-less regularly, which is really too many (and why I got around to each of them only sporadically), but I especially enjoyed

        The Multicolored Diary, in which I always learn such strange, fascinating, new-to-me folktales, this year’s being from small towns in and around Hungary.

        The Confusing Middle, in which we visited 26 alternate Earths, all intricately thought-out and beautifully written.

        Monica Hawthorn, in which we were presented with a delightful Austenesque romance in 26 vignettes.

        Tao-Talk, in which an alphabet of goddesses, some of whom were new to me, invited me to consider what sort of goddess I might be.

        Danab Cycle, in which a fascinating future world was hinted at, through the musings of a non-human fan of Earth and humanity.

        How Would You Know, with a treasure trove of info about all things fiber and textile.

        Very Important Stuff Here, in which an unfortunate human undergoes inexplicable trials from the gods in an interesting array of literary forms.

        The Versesmith, in which an A to Z of poems are inspired by pieces of art in the artist’s collection.

        So, that’s another year’s challenge completed, and the moral of this year’s theme is that telling stories – and retelling, and sharing, and adapting, and telling again – is perhaps the most human thing there is!  It’s how we make sense of the world, and how we try to share our sense of the world with others.  Lest we lose our very humanity, let’s keep telling each other our stories, and just as importantly, listening to each other’s stories.

        And also, if you should by chance be interested in reading Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns, you can find it at IngramSpark, Amazon, Barnes & Noble, or by contacting me via my web site.

        What’s one of your favorite fairy tales, myths, or legends?  And have you ever tweaked it in your imagination, or thought about ways it could be even more satisfying to you?

        Also, want to play a game of "How Much Do We Have in Common?"  Check out my post Birds of a Feather? to find out.

[Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns, book cover by AEGNydam, 20026;

Black Forest Cake, rubber block print with watercolor by AEGNydam, 2026, from NydamPrints.com.]

Z is for Zorzi

         (My A to Z Blog Challenge theme this year is Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns, my brand-sparkly-new collection of short stories, poems, and art inspired by fairy tales, myths, and folklore.  All through the month I’ve shared excerpts of art, stories, and poetry from my book, as well as some reflections on the power of the traditional stories that inspired me.)

        Today’s story is another that’s inspired by elements of medieval folklore - particularly some of the botanical creatures found in travelers’ tales and marginalia - rather than by a particular fairy tale.  (However, it does also include yet another nod to “The Sleeping Beauty.”)  Here’s how it begins…

        Rich volcanic soil, moderate rainfall, and favorable agricultural regulations make the town of Arylli the perfect place for growing snapdragons – but it wasn’t always this way.  When Zorzi Ombor brought home a potted vegetable lamb (Agnifera borometz) from the Sorcerers’ Market in Rabo, his neighbors raised their eyebrows.  When his wife Aldita planted barnacle goose trees (Branta arborescens) among the almonds in their orchard, the townsfolk shook their heads.  And when Zorzi and Aldita began cultivating snapdragons (Dracophytum folium), the town fathers took a stand.

        Three of the most respected councilors called on the Ombors one afternoon in July.  Half a dozen vegetable lambs now lined the path to their cottage, grazing meditatively, each within the circuit of its long, flexible stem.  The soft cheeping of barnacle geese still inside their shells could be heard from the orchard on the low hillside behind the house.  To the side of the shed, however, the councilors could see the field of snapdragons.

        The snapdragons could see the councilors, too, and their narrow heads rose up on sinuous necks, turning like sunflowers to keep glowing yellow eyes fixed on the visitors.  One or two hissed softly, thin green tendrils escaping from their thorny jaws like steam.  The councilors crowded together on the path and hurried up to the Ombors’ door.

        “People don’t like them,” Councilor Polo Talig explained, “They’re a menace to the town.”

        “How?” asked Zorzi, as Aldita offered the visitors her famous almond shortbread.

        “Well, the teeth, for one thing.”

        “Nobody objects to rose bushes.”

        “And the vines they breathe out.”

        “Nobody objects to sweet peas.”

        “But they stare at people.  They’re clearly hostile!”

        “Nobody objects to cats.”

        “Look, Zorzi,” Polo insisted, “We know you like your specialty crops, and we’ve tried to be tolerant.  Really we have.”  He looked at the other councilors for support.  “But these dragon plant things are just too much.  We’ve gotten too many complaints.  They’re going to have to go.”

        “Go where?” asked Zorzi. 

        You can read about two of the three species mentioned in the excerpt above at these prior posts: The Vegetable Lamb of Tartary

        Magical Botany B

        Those two marvels both appear in travelers’ tales and people believed they existed in far-flung locales.  As for the Dracophytum folium, on the other hand, that’s inspired by marginalia.  If you’re not familiar with that term, consider it a Word of the Month: it means decorations or writing in the margins of a manuscript.  Marginalia can range from translations, commentary, and helpful diagrams, to elaborate decor to mere doodlings.  The marginalia in medieval illuminated manuscripts can be absolutely gorgeous, but even when it’s a deliberate part of a book’s design and decor, it usually has nothing at all to do with the subject or content of the book.  That left those medieval illuminators free to decorate margins with whatever strange and sometimes downright unhinged images came into their heads.  If you want to see some of the weirder marginal monsters, check out my 2022 A to Z posts on Z is for Zany and X is for Variables.  Of course I’m always on the lookout for dragons, and when I discovered a couple of dragons breathing out vines, I was quite taken with them.  Here are a couple of the dragons that inspired me, one breathing vines, the other with a viny tail.  So I made a botanical dragon of my own.  And if you want a coloring page of my design, you can download it here, as a little celebratory gift for reaching the end of the 2026 A to Z Blog Challenge!

        The moral of Zorzi and Aldita and their snapdragons is that there can be definite advantages to remaining unnoticed.

        Also, on the other hand, there can be definite advantages to being unique and special.

        I don’t have any Dracophytum folium, but I do have a collection of carnivorous plants!  Do  you have any unusual plants or pets?

[Picture: Dracophytum Folium, rubber block print by AEGNydam, 2020 (Image from Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns);

Marginal decoration from Hebrew Festival prayer book, Italian, 3rd quarter of the 15th century (Image from the British Library);

Decoration from Book of Hours, Netherlands or Germany, mid-15th century (Image from the British Library);

Venus fly trap, pitcher plant, and sundew, photos by AEGNydam, 2026.]

Y is for Yossele

         (My A to Z Blog Challenge theme this year is Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns, my brand-sparkly-new collection of short stories, poems, and art inspired by fairy tales, myths, and folklore.  All through the month I’m sharing excerpts of art, stories, and poetry, as well as some reflections on the power of the traditional stories that inspired me.)

        Yossele is the nickname, according to some accounts, of the Prague golem.  If you want to learn all about him, you simply need to go read my whole post about him: The Prague Golem.  Okay, now to consider what this legend contributed to my new collection.  For this one the artwork is the primary piece.  (If you’re interested in the process you can see the sketch and half-carved block in that previous blog post.)  This shows the golem taking the pleasant night-time air and quietly reading, while waiting to be called upon again.

        There are striking similarities between the lore of golems and shabtis (which you can find at S) and I might throw out a wild speculation that the Jewish folklore was influenced by the Egyptian mythology, although the timing may be wrong and I haven’t looked into whether actual scholars have any opinions on the matter.  In any case, though, they are both humanoid figures constructed out of clay (always, in the case of golems and usually but not always in the case of shabtis), for the purpose of serving humans.  But the interesting piece they share that I want to focus on today is that they’re both activated by the magic of written words, which constrain them to exact and literal obedience.

        The magical power of writing is a belief that many cultures have shared, particularly before eras of widespread literacy when people began to take the power for granted.  It’s a theme appropriate for Words of the Month, and one I’ve come back to myself on several occasions.  It was  particularly important in Sleeping Legends Lie, the second book in my high fantasy Otherworld series, in which our protagonists attempt to escape from enslavement by using writing to convince their captors that they’re sorcerers.  And then there’s the golem in Kate and Sam and the Cheesemonster, the third book in my series for elementary children.  In that story the exact wording of the golem’s instructions is central to the plot.  The idea that words can literally bring things to life is one that writers love, but these stories also remind us that words can wield incredible control over people.  My shabti pushes back against the power of the written spells that control him, while my golem has, perhaps, realized that by reading he can claim the power of words for himself.

        By the way, when I say that words constrain these beings to literal obedience and literally bring them to life, I mean that… literally.  The etymology of the word literal is from Latin “of letters or writing.”  It entered English in the late 14th century to distinguish an interpretation of a text (usually Scriptures) according to the words as written, as opposed to metaphorical or allegorical interpretations.  The word literal-minded, which is perfect for a golem, appeared in the late 18th century.

        For a little more about golems, including some books that feature them, (and more for Words of the Month) check out my post on Artificial Life.

        Y is also for Baba Yaga, another story that’s explored via artwork in Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns.  You can see more about that piece here at Baba Yaga Village.

        Do you enjoy being transported by words?  Here’s one last reminder that I and 5 other authors will be attempting to enchant you with excerpts from our work on May 1.  Find out the details, plus links to pre-register for this free on-line event here.  I’ll be reading a little something (teaser: actually two little somethings!) from Beyond Pomegranate & Thorns.

        The moral of the golem is that the words we hold in our heads can determine whether we turn toward truth (emét) or death (mét).

        Also, be careful what you say because words really do have power.

        Would you want to have a servant that, on the one hand, supposedly follows your every command, but on the other hand is liable to go rogue through taking its instructions too literally to their unintended extremes?  Oh wait, you already do: it’s called a computer.

        

[Picture: Staronová (Yossele), rubber block print by AEGNydam, 2023 (Image from NydamPrints.com).]