cotton

26 July 2023

Besides its usual sense as a noun for the plant and the cloth made from it, cotton is also a verb meaning to get along with, to like. You see it in phrases like take a cotton to. How did the word for the plant acquire this verb sense?

First, the noun, which has a straightforward but atypical etymology. The English word comes from the Old French coton. But unlike most medieval borrowings from French, cotton does not originate in Latin. The French word comes from the Old Italian cotone. which comes from the Arabic قطن  (quṭn or quṭun), an etymology that shows medieval Europe’s connections with the wider world.

As far as English usage goes, the noun cotton appears in a household inventory, written in Anglo-Latin, in the late thirteenth century and was probably in English-language use at that time, but it is not recorded in English-language writing until the early fourteenth century.

The verb to cotton appears in the late fifteenth century, still in the context of cloth and originally meaning to acquire a glossy surface, to take on a nap. We see it in a Scottish royal household account book from 1488:

Item, for v ½ elne blak clath to be viij pare of hos to thaim, price of the elne xv s.; summa iiij li. ij s. vj d.

Item, for xij elne of cotonyt quhit clath to lyne the saim hos, x s. viij d.

(Item, for 5 ½ ells of black cloth be 8 pairs of hose for them, price of an ell 15 shillings; total 4 pounds, 2 shillings, 6 pence.

Item, for 12 ells of cottoned white cloth to line the same hose, 10 shillings, 8 pence.)

By the mid sixteenth century, the verb had taken on a more figurative sense, meaning to be agreeable, prosper, succeed. In early use, it is often in the form this gear cottons as we see it in Thomas Preston’s c.1560 play Cambyses. In this scene, King Cambyses, upon hearing that his brother wished his death in order that he might succeed him, says:

KING
Were he father, as brother mine,
   I swear that he shall die.
To palace mine I will therefore,
   His death for to pursue. [Exit]

AMBIDEXTER
Are ye gone? straightway I will follow you.
How like ye now, my masters? Doth not this gear cotton?

And we see it in the sense of to agree, to be agreeable, to work in harmony in Thomas Drant’s 1567 translation of Horace’s Ars Poetica (The Art of Poetry):

So seyneth he, things true and false
   to always mingleth he.
That first with midst, and midst with laste,
   maye cotton, and agree.

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Sources:

American Heritage Dictionary, fifth edition, 2022, s.v. cotton, n.

Dickson, Thomas, ed. Accounts of the Lord High Treasurer of Scotland (Compota Thesaurariorum Regum Scotorum), vol. 1 of 13. Edinburgh: H.M. General Register, 1877, 164. fol. 70.a. HathiTrust Digital Archive.  

Drant, Thomas. Horace: His Arte of Poetrie, Pistles, and Satyrs Englished (1567). Delmar, New York: Scholars’ Facsimiles & Reprints, 1972, sig. Av (reprint page 22). Archive.org.

Merriam-Webster, 23 June 2023, s.v. cotton.

Middle English Dictionary, 2019, s.v. cotoun, n.

Oxford English Dictionary, second edition, 1989, s.v. cotton, n.1, cotton, v.1.

Preston, Thomas. Cambyses (c. 1560). In Hazlitt, W. Carew, ed. A Select Collection of Old English Plays, fourth edition, vol 4. London: Reeves and Turner, 1874, 215. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Photo credit: Kimberly Vardeman, 2011. Wikimedia Commons. Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license.

trespass / sin / debt

A sign reading, “No Trespassing.”

24 July 2023

Many people wonder about the word choice in different versions of the Lord’s Prayer. One version, favored by Roman Catholics and Anglicans, uses the phrase forgive us our trespasses. To the modern ear, trespass seems an odd word to use, with its primary present-day sense of entering a property without permission. Another version, favored by Protestants of the Reformed tradition, says forgive us our debts, which may sound even stranger, asking God to forgive one’s financial credit obligations. Many modern biblical translations simply use the word sin instead. Why the difference? It all has to do with translation and the history of these three words.

Trespass comes into English via the Anglo-Norman trespas. The French word originally meant passage or way, from tres- (intensifier) + pas (pace, step), and it is recorded by the early twelfth century. But by the late twelfth century it had acquired the additional meaning of a bypass or way around something, and this sense was extended to include a failure to observe a law by the early thirteenth. And by the mid thirteenth century, the French word had acquired the sense of a transgression of the law, misdeed, or sin.

Middle English borrowed trespas in these legal/theological senses by the late thirteenth century. Perhaps the earliest example we know of is from the life of Thomas Becket in the Early South English Legendary. The relevant lines read:

For it nas neuere lawe ne riȝt : double dom to take
For o trespas, ase ȝe wel wuteth : and sunne it were to make;
And vnwuyrþere þane a lewed Man : holi churche were so:
A lewed Man for o trespas : bote o Iuggement nis i-do.

(For it was never correct law to undertake double jeopardy
For one trespass, as you know well, and it would be a sin to make it so;
And if it were unmerited then for a lay person, then it should be so for the holy clergy.
A lay person for one trespass, only one judgment should they suffer.)

The use of trespass in the text of the Lord’s Prayer is from William Tyndale’s 1525 translation of Matthew. The liturgy of the church maintains this sense, even though the sense has fallen out of common use elsewhere.

Debt also comes from the Anglo-Norman, where the word is dette, and it too dates to the twelfth century. From its earliest known uses, the word could mean either money that is owed or sin, transgression. The French word is from the Latin debitum, meaning money owed, a financial obligation.

English use of debt (spelled without the <b>, as in the Anglo-Norman) is recorded in both the financial and theological senses starting in the thirteenth century. And we see debt being used in the context of the Lord’s Prayer from its earliest known appearances in English. The following lines are from the Ancrene Wisse, a manual for anchoresses:

O þis ilke wise, we beoð alle I prisun her, ant ahen Godd greate deattes of sunne. For-þi we ȝeiȝeð to him i þe Pater Noster, Et dimitte nobis debita nostra. “Lauerd,” we seggeð, “forȝef us ure deattes, alswa as we forȝeoueð ure deatturs.”

(From this likewise, we are all in prison here, and owe God great debts of sin. Therefore, we call out to him in the Pater Noster, Et dimitte nobis debita nostra. “Lord,” we say, “forgive us our debts, just as we forgive our debtors.”

In the sixteenth century, the <b> began to be artificially reintroduced into English spelling to conform to the Latin root.

Sin, on the other hand, has a much longer English pedigree. It comes from the Old English syn, which had much the same meaning as the present-day word. Here is the word being used in the Old English translation of Boethius’s Consolation of Philosophy, c. 888, a translation that is commonly ascribed to King Alfred the Great:

Ac þæt is swiðe dyslic and swiðe micel syn þæt mon þæs wenan sceole be Gode, oðð eft wenan þæt ænig þing ær him wære oððe betere þonne he oððe him gelic. Ac we sceolon bion geþafan þæt God sie eallra þinga betst.

(But that is very foolish and a very great sin that one should think that about God, or again that anything was prior to him or better than him or like him. But we must acknowledge that God is the best of all things.)

There is a belief that sin comes from some archery term meaning to miss the target. This tale stems from confusion and misunderstanding of preachers giving Sunday sermons. The English word sin has no such etymology. The Greek αμαρτία (amartia or hamartia) does have its roots in hunting or warfare, where it literally means to fall short or miss the mark when shooting an arrow or throwing a spear. But in later use the Greek word would come to mean fault, transgression, failure, or sin. Αμαρτία appears quite often in Greek translations of the Hebrew Bible and, of course, in the New Testament, which was originally written in that language, and as a result the etymology is given in many biblical commentaries and used by preachers as a sermon illustration. This use, however, is somewhat flawed and anachronistic. By the time the New Testament was being written, the hunting sense of αμαρτία was long obsolete. To early Christians αμαρτία would simply have meant a violation of God’s law and would not have conveyed a metaphorical sense of falling short, as an arrow falls short of its target.

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Sources:

Anglo-Norman Dictionary, 1992, trespas, n.; 2006, dette, n.

Godden, Malcolm and Susan Irvine, eds. The Old English Boethius, vol. 1 of 2. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2009, § 34, 320. Oxford, Bodleian Library, Bodley 180 (2079), fol. 53r.

Horstmann, Carl, ed. “St. Thomas of Caunterbury.” The Early South English Legendary. Early English Text Society, OS 87. London: N. Trübner, 1887, lines 461–64, 119–20. Oxford, Bodleian Library MS Laud 108.

Lewis, Charlton T. and Charles Short. A Latin Dictionary. Oxford: Oxford UP, 1879, s.v. debeo. Brepols: Database of Latin Dictionaries.

Liddell, Henry George and Robert Scott. A Greek-English Lexicon. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1968, 77. Archive.org.

Middle English Dictionary, 2019, trespas, n., dette, n.

Millett, Bella, ed. Ancrene Wisse. Early English Text Society 325. Oxford: Oxford UP, 2005, 50. Archive.org. Cambridge, Corpus Christi College MS 402, fol. 34r.

Oxford English Dictionary, second edition, 1989, s.v. trespass, n., debt, n.

Photo credit: Djuradj Vujcic, 2008. Wikimedia Commons. Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license.

dysprosium

Dysprosium chips

21 July 2023

Dysprosium, atomic number 66 and symbol Dy, is rare-earth metal with a silvery color. It is not found in nature as a free element, existing only in compounds with other elements. It has few practical uses, but it is used in the control rods of nuclear reactors and in some data-storage applications.

The name is a modern Latin coinage, formed from the Greek δυσπρόσιτος (dysprósitos, meaning inaccessible). Dysprosium was first identified and named by Paul Émile Lecoq de Boisbaudran in 1886, but it was not successfully isolated until the 1950s. Lecoq de Boisbaudran wrote two notes on his discovery in May 1886. One is titled Sur le Dysprosium (On Dysprosium), and in the other, L’Holmine (ou Terre X de M. Soret) Contient au Moins Deux Radicaux Mètalliques (Holmine [or M. Soret’s “Earth X”] Contains at Least Two Metallic Radicals), he explains the name:

Comme les bandes 640,4 et 536,3 sont surtout celles qui ont servi à M. Soret et à M. Clève pour reconnaître la présence d'un élément nouveau dans l'ancienne erbine, je propose de conserver le nom d'holmium à l'élé- ment producteur de ces bandes et d'appeler dysprosium (symbole Dy)* le métal qui donne les bandes 753 et 451,5.

(As bands 640.4 and 536.3 are above all those which were used by M. Soret and M. Clève to recognize the presence of a new element in the old erbine, I propose to retain the name of holmium for the element producing these bands and to call dysprosium (symbol Dy) the metal which gives the bands 753 and 451.5.)

The footnote gives the Greek root:

* De Δυσπρόσιτος: d’un abord difficile.

(* Of Dysprósitos: inaccessible.)

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Sources:

Lecoq de Boisbaudran, Paul Émile. “L’Holmine (ou Terre X de M. Soret) Contient au Moins Deux Radicaux Mètalliques.” Comptes Rendus Hebdomadaires Des Séances de l’Académie des Sciences, 3 May 1886, 1003–1004 at 1004. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

———. “Sur le Dysprosium.” Comptes Rendus Hebdomadaires Des Séances de l’Académie des Sciences, 3 May 1886, 1005–1006. HathiTrust Digital Archive.

Miśkowiec, Pawel. “Name Game: The Naming History of the Chemical Elements: Part 2—Turbulent Nineteenth Century,” Foundations of Chemistry, 8 December 2022.

Oxford English Dictionary, second edition, 1989, s.v. dysprosium, n.

Photo credit: Materialscientist (anonymous photographer), 2009. Wikimedia Commons. Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported license.

Katy bar the door

Nineteenth-century painting by Alexander George Fraser illustrating the ballad Get Up and Bar the Door

17 July 2023

(Updated 20–21 July: identified Kate in the Old Smithy poem as a servant rather than the mistress of the house; elaborated on the Kate Barlass legend)

Katy (or Katie) bar the door is an American catchphrase used to warn of impending danger. The bar the door part is self-explanatory, referring to locking a door against intruders. But who is Katy? There’s no satisfactory answer to that question, but the phrase is connected with traditional folk music on both sides of the Atlantic.

Bar the door is an unremarkable phrase, with collocations appearing many times over the centuries. In the nineteenth century it became a standard catchphrase that called for some kind of barrier to entry, either literal or metaphorical. But it also appears in a couple of ballads published in 1769 that seem to have engendered the catchphrase. The first one is titled The Jolly Beggar, about a beggar who beds a woman who offers him hospitality:

The beggar’s bed was made e’en wi’ good clean straw and hay,
And in ahint the ha’ door, and there the beggar lay.
Up raise the goodman’s dochter, and for to bar the door,
And there she saw the beggar standin i’ the floor.
He took the lassie in his arms, and to the bed he ran,
O hooly! Hooly wi’ me, Sir, ye’ll waken our goodman.

The second is actually titled Get Up and Bar the Door. It is about a husband and wife arguing over who should get up and lock the door. They decide that the first one who speaks will do it. While they are sitting in silence, two men enter and plunder the house, but the couple remain silent until the intruders threaten to kiss the wife, at which point the husband stands up and speaks out, and the wife cackles that he has lost the bet. The ballad ends with these lines:

Then up and started our goodwife,
Gied three skips on the floor;
“Goodman, you’ve spoken the foremost word,
Get up and bar the door.”

Robert Burns also used bar the door in his bawdy Reels o’ Bogie, which was also set to music. (“Bogie” here refers to the River Bogie in Aberdeenshire.) The poem is of uncertain date but must predate his 1796 death. While the song has been played quite a bit over the centuries, its subject (and its inclusion of one particular word) prevented the publication of the one particular stanza until the 1964 American edition of the collection Merry Muses of Caledonia. As a result of the censorship, we don’t know for certain exactly how Burns’s original read. The version of the final stanza, with the offending word partially redacted, as it was published in 1964 reads:

Said I, young man, more you can’t do,
    I think I’ve granted your desire,
By bobbing on my wanton clue,
   You see your pintle’s all on fire.
When on my back I work like steel
   An bar the door wi my left heel,
The mair you f[uck] the less I feel,
   An that’s the reels o’ Bogie.

Bar the door’s use in American folk music dates to at least 1850, when it appears in A Christmas Song: A Song of a Pleasant Old Woodman, and his Wife Joan, at a Christmas Fire by an F. J. Palmer, published in the Anti-Slavery Bugle of New Lisbon, Ohio on 23 November. The song is about an older couple who lock the door so their grandchildren will not disturb their amorous activities. The song opens:

Come! Jock o’ the wood, my jolly old man! get up and bar the door!
The feathery sleet with frosty foot, is dancing on the moor.

But while we’ve seen bar the door in various folk songs on both sides of the Atlantic, so far there is no Katy. The first known association of a woman of that name barring the door in the phrase is from an 1841 poem The Old Smithy, published in a London collection of sketches and stories titled The Mirror. The story is about a blacksmith who kills a lone traveler for his money on dark, November night. Years later, a dog digs up the traveler’s bones, and the blacksmith hangs himself and his wife dies of grief. The poem opens:

“The snow is drifting on the ground,
And loud the east wind roars;
Come, men and maidens, hie you in;
Kate, bar those creaking doors.

“Call in the dogs, rouse up the fire;
And, mistress, do you hear?
Heat us a jug of elder wine,
For the night is chill and drear.”

The Kate here appears to be a servant in a public house or inn where the speaker is telling his grim tale. It’s worth noting that this is a British source, while the subsequent early sources are all American. How it might be connected to these later American uses is not known.

Katy makes her American appearance in a nineteenth-century American fiddle tune entitled, appropriately enough, Katie, Bar the Door. We don’t know who wrote the song or when it was written, but the earliest known reference to it is from the 2 October 1872 Louisiana Democrat of Alexandra, LA:

The Custom House Packet, with the Custom House colored band, U.S. Marshal Packard, in command, with the old flag triumphantly kissing the breeze of old Red, the band playing “Katie, Bar The Door,” and with waving rags touched the wharf and proceeded to land her precious cargo.

So, a song of that title existed in 1872, but efforts to track down its music or lyrics have been unsuccessful. The following lyrics are associated with a tune called Katy Bar the Door as played by twentieth-century banjo man Roscoe Parrish. But we don’t know if this particular tune, much less its lyrics, is the one from the 1870s:

Katy bar your door,
Katy bar your door;
The Indians jumping all around your house,
Katy bar your door.

Katie bar the door appears in 1878 in yet another song. This one was composed especially for a wedding of a soldier named Murphy, stationed at Fort Leavenworth, Kansas, and a Miss Cooper. It was published in Missouri’s Sedalia Weekly Bazoo on 26 March 1878, and includes the lines:

This winsome maid had lovers many,
Whose love she did implore,
There was George and Fred and Harry,
And Ed who numbered with the score,
But when the soldier he came in,
It was “Katie bar the door.”

We don’t know the first name of Miss Cooper, but it probably wasn’t Katie. The quotation marks indicate that the catchphrase was in use at the time and being used here to indicate that Cooper is metaphorically locking the door against new suitors now that she has met Murphy.

The next year we see the following in the Lima, Ohio Allen County Democrat of 30 October 1879 about the mining town of Leadville, Colorado:

To sum it all up, my advice to anyone thinking of going there would be “don’t,” unless they have a pocketfull of the “rhino” which they can afford to lose. I saw it was “Katy bar the door” with me unless I skipped, and I lost no time in skipping.

In short, we have no idea who Katy or Katie is or why she should be barring the door. All we know is that the phrase appears in the mid nineteenth-century and that it has a connection to folk music.

There is a legend that is often cited as the origin of the phrase, although the only evidence connection to the phrase is circumstantial—the story circulated around the time the phrase was developing. On 20 February 1437, King James I of Scotland was assassinated while staying at the Dominican chapterhouse in Perth, and, according to the legend, one of the queen’s ladies-in-waiting, Catherine Douglas, tried to save him by using her arm as a bolt to secure the door against the assassins. She was unsuccessful and her arm was broken, but her bravery was celebrated, and she became popularly known as Kate Barlass. According to the story, her descendants to this day bear a broken arm on their family crest and keep the name Barlass, but no such coat of arms is recorded in heraldic records.

Walter Scott repeated the legend in his 1827 Tales of a Grandfather, but the story did not catch the public’s attention until the publication of George Gilfillan’s 1860 Specimens with Memoirs of the Less-known British Poets (which is also the first recorded mention of the name Barlass). Perhaps the most famous version of the legend was Dante Gabriel Rossetti’s 1881 poem, The King’s Tragedy, but this poem was written well after the phrase had been established. None of these works of Victorian literature use the phrase Katy bar the door or anything remotely resembling it.

So, the chronology works for the Kate Barlass legend being the inspiration of the phrase, but that’s it. It is a possibility, but there is no particular reason to connect Kate Barlass with the Katy who is barring the door in the phrase.

Discuss this post

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Sources:

Burns, Robert. “Reels O Bogie” (before 1796). In The Merry Muses of Caledonia, James Barke and Sydney Goodsir Smith, eds. New York: G.P. Putnam’s Sons, 1964, 161–162. Archive.org.

“Get Up and Bar the Door.” Ancient and Modern Scots Songs. Edinburgh: Martin and Wotherspoon, 1769, 330–31. Eighteenth Century Collections Online.

Green’s Dictionary of Slang, 2023, s. v. Katy bar the door, phr.; work, v.

“The Jolly Beggar.” Ancient and Modern Scots Songs. Edinburgh: Martin and Wotherspoon, 1769, 46–47. Eighteenth Century Collections Online.

“Katy Bar the Door.” Traditional Tune Archive, 1 December 2022.

“A Limaite Just From Leadville.” Allen County Democrat (Lima, Ohio), 30 October 1879, 3/4. Newspapers.com. [Archive metadata gives the paper name as Times-Democrat]

Morris, Peter. “‘Katy, bar the door’ (1872–1887).” ADS-L, 7 February 2016.

“The Old Smithy.” The Mirror, 6 February 1841, 91. Google Books.

Oram, Richard. “Kate Barlass—Catherine Douglas: History, Myth and Modern Folk Tale.” Part 1. Part 2. No date. Kingjames1ofscotland.co.uk.

O’Toole, Garson. “Re: ‘Katy, bar the door’ (1872–1887).” ADS-L, 6 February 2016.

Palmer, F.J. “A Christmas Song.” The Anti-Slavery Bugle (Salem, Ohio), 23 November 1850, 4. Library of Congress: Chronicling America, Historic American Newspapers. https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83035487/1850-11-23/ed-1/seq-4/

“The Radical Barbecue.” Louisiana Democrat (Alexandria, Louisiana), 2 October 1872, 2/3. Library of Congress: Chronicling America, Historic American Newspapers.

Reinhelm. “The Old Smithy.” The Mirror, vol. 37, London: Hugh Cunningham, 1841, 91.

Scott, Walter. Tales of a Grandfather, vol. 1 of 4. Philadelphia: Porter and Coates, 1827, 165–66. HathiTrust Digital Archive.  

“A Soldier’s Wedding.” Sedalia Weekly Bazoo (Sedalia, Missouri), 26 March 1878, 3/7. Library of Congress: Chronicling America, Historic American Newspapers.

Taylor-Blake, Bonnie. “‘Katy, bar the door’ (1872–1887).” ADS-L, 6 February 2016.

Image credit: Alexander George Fraser, 19th century. Wikimedia Commons. Public domain image.

polycule

19 July 2023

Polycule is a relatively new word from the world of polyamory. A blend of poly[amory] and [mole]cule, it refers to a graphical or physical model of a polyamorous relationship, and by extension a name for the group of people in that relationship.

The term isn’t in any major dictionaries (yet), but Urbandictionary.com has an entry for it dating from 2015. That entry says:

Polycule is used to describe any system of connected non-monogamous relationships.

A polycule can be as simple as a “V’"(A is dating both B and C, with their approval, but B and C are not dating each other) or a triangle (A, B, and C are all dating each other), but it can also get very complex. (Ex: A is dating B and C. B is dating A and D. C is dating A, E, and F. F is also dating G.)

When drawn out as a chart, these connections can look similar to a molecular structure—hence the name polycule.

"My boyfriend's wife just got a new girlfriend. Looks like I'll have to update our polycule!"

Such a chart or model resembles the ball-and-stick models used to show molecular structure, where each ball represents a person and the sticks the relationships with others in the polycule.

The earliest use that I can find of polycule is in Dan Savage’s sex advice column, Savage Love, from 5 August 2010. In it, Savage credits a Koe Sozuteki, who was raised in a polyamorous household, with coining the term:

Sozuteki identifies as poly—her first relationship, she notes, was a quad—but her closest sibling, her brother, is in a monogamous relationship. She currently works at the Center for Sex Positive Culture, is studying to become a sex educator, and coined a widely embraced term in the poly community: “polycule.”

“I was in high school at the time,” she says, “and one day I started making a chart of what my family situation looked like. I wrote down names, drew lines between the names, how some bonds were strong, how some shifted, showing all the connections.”

Sozuteki was studying organic chemistry at the time.

“I finished the chart and thought, ‘Oh, my God-this looks like a molecule, like the diagrams in my biology textbook!’ It really helped me to understand my family.”

Savage gives no date for Sozuteki’s coinage, but he gives her age as twenty, and it seems unlikely that she would have been studying organic chemistry, a university-level subject, much before 2008.

Another early published use is from the news website Vice.com from June 2012:

The basic premise of polyamory is that it is possible and fine to love or lust after more than one person at one time, and that, with care and communication, you can have more than one (or more than ten, YOLO) successful, happy relationships at once. So, naturally, everyone at the event took some plasticine and straws and made “polycules,” little modelling-clay representations of the romantic/sexual relationships in their lives.

And the use of polycule to mean a particular network of polyamorous relationships appeared on the polyamory website Morethantwo.com in 2015:

This is something that hits home to me. I’ve seen abuse happen in my polycule. It’s incredibly disempowering to see someone you love being abused by, for example, your metamour—especially when your metamour is also your friend.

Discuss this post

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Sources:

Heisey, Monica. “Exploring Polyamory with a Bunch of Horny Nerds.” Vice.com, 19 June 2012.

Savage, Dan. “Heather Has Two Mommies, One Daddy, and Several Matriarchal Women in the Community Who She Thinks of as Moms,” The Stranger (Seattle), 5 August 2010, 17.

Urbandictionary.com, 15 March 2015, s. v. polycube. https://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=Polycule

Veaux, Franklin. “Some Thoughts on Community and Abuse.” Morethantwo.com, 11 February 2015.

Photo credit: Boxflip (anonymous contributor), 2016. Wikimedia Commons. Licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 4.0 International license.