I am writing about water. Which made me think about cottonwood trees. Which made me remember the Alamo.
Left, the Alamo. Right, the Alamo museum,
Alamo, in Spanish, means "cottonwood tree". The Omaha tribes named them maa-zho. Lakota call them canyáh'u, which means "peeling off the bark". Alamo, in Texan, means, "never give in" which is far different than "never give up." The Alamo, which was moved to San Antonio, is associated with death--brave, stubborn, glorified death.
But the cottonwood tree meant life on the great plains in the millennia before wells and dams. If you see them at a distance, you know you won't be thirsty long. They line up along creeks and rivers. They put little white mary-poppins umbrellas/flotation devices on their seeds so their children can root downstream. I have had two close cottonwood friends. One was scared and scarred by a fire in Grand Junction, Colorado. The other one still holds a rope swing across Clear Creek, in Golden Colorado.
But the cottonwood tree meant life on the great plains in the millennia before wells and dams. If you see them at a distance, you know you won't be thirsty long. They line up along creeks and rivers. They put little white mary-poppins umbrellas/flotation devices on their seeds so their children can root downstream. I have had two close cottonwood friends. One was scared and scarred by a fire in Grand Junction, Colorado. The other one still holds a rope swing across Clear Creek, in Golden Colorado.
