Words on the Wind


What’s in a Name?

Names are such a huge part of who you are. They are used as a signature of your personal being. Your name is what you are recognized by. A name can even last long after you have passed away. What about the moon? Has it ever dawned on you that the moon doesn’t have a real name? I have been pondering this questions for two years now, and it really bothers me. Is it just me, or has anyone else wondered this?

Sure, the moon has a title, but not a name. Think of it this way; the Earth’s moon, is just called the Earth’s moon. What kind of a name is that? Well, it’s not. Mars has “moons,” but they each have names like Phobos and Deimos, they aren’t called just moon – a title of the object that they are. Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, Neptune, and Pluto all have “moons” that all have names! Even if one of the other planets’ moons is only know by numbers, at least they have a signature! Not poor old Earth’s moon.

I don’t understand why this is, or how this has come to be. If anyone out there can shed some light on my confused mind, please do!

Doesn't our beautiful moon deserve a name too?

Doesn’t our beautiful moon deserve a name too?


©Lindsay Amber



Snow Days

Yesterday it started to snow here, and that’s just what I’ve been waiting for! As soon as the snow began to fall, and all the mud had frozen solid, I grabbed a hat, scarf, and my pit bull pup, Loki. I ushered him outside and had him sit in the road while I shot pictures of him. I think these pictures came out cute, so I thought I’d share them. I hope they put a smile on your face! Enjoy! 🙂


Picture Prompt #2: The Girl and Her Elephant

In a sleepy English town in the early 1900’s, there lived a little girl balancing between the ages of six and seven.   The little girl’s name was Tally.   She was a wild little thing who very soon became out-of-place in her quiet English town.   She would run though the forests, jump over streams, roll down all the hills, and play marbles in the streets, but ever time she was at the height of her game, gentleman, ladies, farmers, or maids would chase her off for causing “too much excitement.”   Tally’s parents soon began to get complaints of their daughter “stirring up the air.”   With many hours spent together discussing ways to keep their daughter out of the people’s way, Tally’s parents made the decision to get her a pet.

“Not a rat,” said Tally’s father, “she will surly lose the thing in our pantry.”

“Indeed she shall.  Not a cat either,” agreed Tally’s mother, “they are much too delicate, she will soon lose interest.”

“Much too delicate.  I should hate to think of a dog,” informed Tally’s father, “the poor brute will be run to exhaustion.”

“And not a pretty, little song bird,” Tally’s mother told her father, “she should be expected to get into too much mischief with a pet who can fly.”

Tally’s parents were unable to come to an agreement on which pet would be best for Tally.   It’s not that Tally was cruel.   On the contrary, Tally loved animals of all shapes and sizes and would never wish to harm a single hair on any of their heads.   It’s just that she had too much spirit for an ordinary pet to handle.

The morning after Tally’s parents had their discussion, they all took a trip to town together.   Tally soon ran ahead after her ball while her mother and father noticed an old man standing on the street corner with a sign that read “RETIRED CIRCUS ELEPHANT FOR SALE TO GOOD HOME!  ALL OFFERS CONSIDERED.”   The parents exchanged a look.   That was it!  If no ordinary pet would do for Tally, it would have to be an extraordinary pet!

Seeing as no one seemed interested in the man’s sign, Tally’s parents took their chance.   Before they knew it they had bought an elephant.   They gave the old gentleman his dues and he informed them that with the father’s help, he would have him delivered late this afternoon.   The father gratefully agreed and followed the man to wherever the elephant was being kept.   Tally’s mother quickly rushed her home and made Tally play the piano for her until father arrived – which was a task in itself just to get Tally to stay still!

When Tally and her mother heard a knock on the door, Tally’s mother allowed her to go receive it.   When little Tally opened the great door, she saw her father grinning wildly while a huge, solemn-looking elephant stood beside him!  Tally was delighted!  She ran all around the elephant and coaxed it out into the center of the garden so they had more room to play.  Reluctantly at first, the elephant followed Tally to the garden.   There in the daffodils, Tally bestowed the elephant with the name “Rumba” and they became instant companions.

Within a week of Rumba’s arrival, the two were inseparable.   Never has Tally again bothered a neighbor or a towns folk with her rowdiness, for only her laughter and Rumba’s trumpet echo through their garden.

“There in the daffodils, Tally bestowed the elephant with the name ‘Rumba'”
(Image credit to rightful owner)


© Lindsay Amber

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Photo Challenge – Day 7: Something Funny

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“ut oh…AAAHH!!”

It is usually a pretty funny sight to behold when someone goes sliding across the floor (as long as they don’t suffer any fatal or serious injuries) because they stepped on a banana peel.   Well, have you ever looked at it from the banana’s point of view?  🙂

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Picture Prompt #1: The Story-Teller

In a lonely tent, deep in the desert of the Sahara, there lived a women and her cat.   The woman was a well-known author all over the world.   Her works included fantasy, fables, poems, nursery rhymes and songs, thrillers, science fiction, and much more.    Almost every type of writing that can be done, she was famous for doing it, for no one in the whole of the world was as good a story-teller as she.

So why did she live in such solitude instead of in the spotlight if she is so good a writer and so famous, one may ask.   Well, the women hid herself away because her stories weren’t hers at all.   The woman was simply the narrator.   Indeed, she was but the copy lady who wrote what she heard.   The real story-teller was the women’s humble orange cat.

Every day the women would take her seat in front of her type writer, and every day her cat would sit in front of her on the desk and tell the women all kinds of stories.   He told the most wonderful stories, that the women could not help but want to share them with the world.   So, every morning as the cat told his story, she would write them down, and every evening, she would get in her old jeep, drive across the desert, and bring them to her publisher.

The lonely women loved the cat so much.   He had been her only companion through her childhood in the orphanage and all the way up to this very day in her adult life.   The women knew that if anyone found out that her cat was the creator of such marvelous stories as these, let alone that he could talk, he would surely be taken away from her, become famous, and she would never see him again.   So the women and her cat kept the secret between the two of them and not a soul on the earth or in the sky ever knew who the real story-teller was.

“Every day the women would take her seat in front of her type writer, and every day her cat would sit in front of her on the desk and tell the women all kinds of stories.”
(Image Credit: http://www.mamakatslosinit.com/2012/05/writing-prompts-113/)


© Lindsay Amber