Petunia's Unfortunate Name

Day 274: "Pttt-tooon-ya!" Let's call it the "watermelon-seed-spitting plant," because that's the sound its name invokes. Worse, the term derives from a word meaning a type of tobacco, so maybe it's actually the "snoose-spitting plant." Either way, this lovely common flower has been done an injustice by those who assign such things without an ear for euphony.

The way the aspirants and fricatives and mellifluous vowels work together to form syllables often affects the semantic shades we apply in defining words. Take, for example, "melodious." It rolls from the tongue smoothly. Conversely, much of our profanity is composed of single harsh syllables. A good writer considers these things when composing sentences and with them, paragraphs, keeping not only the flow of the story line but the flow of the words themselves vibrant and alive.

Pity then the poor Petunia, doomed to be spat verbally like a bug in a peanut butter sandwich, and yet she holds her chin up, looking to a brighter horizon.