I named her Hazel, after a tree, or a nut, or eyes I had yet to see.  It's ironic now.  Children run up to ask, "what color are Hazel's eyes? " "well they're Hazel". Her personal color, something special and all on its own.  In truth hazel is just a color,  just a tree known for overpriced nuts that taste good in chocolate.  But I wasn't worried of any of that.  I was searching for a feeling.  Hazel.  Warm as a breezy summer day.  Hazel, as comforting as a spot by the fireplace in winter.  Hazel,  with a bright smile who waves at all the strangers who forgot that a new friend is just a "hi my name is.." away,  "Hazel."
Old women always smile and say,  "that was my aunts name"... "you don't hear that name much anymore".
Sentimental and nostalgic, I wonder where that name takes them.
For me,  it just feels like home.