The title of this post reflects two of my active interests. I enjoy hiking, and where I live in western New England, traveling by foot involves seeing trees at various stages of growth, or at rest, throughout the year. I also have been studying Native American culture.
“Nigik Abaziak” is an Abenaki phrase meaning “Those Trees” — more on that in a moment. First, I’ll share some of what I have learned from researching tree names.
Occasionally, I will hear the cry of a barred owl, seemingly from somewhere very near the open window in my home office, usually near dawn or dusk. Their call has been described as fitting the pattern of “who cooks for you?” or “who who are you?” In Abenaki the word for barred owl is kokokhas (koo-koo-kaas). Abenaki (more formally called Western Abenaki) is a dialect in the Algonkian language group. I have been studying the dialect for more than two years, although I can’t claim to be a very good student.
Clearly, “kokokhas” is an onomatopoeic word, mimicking the “koo” part of the owl’s call. I was pleasantly surprised to come across a tree named kokokhôakw. The -akw suffix is often used to denote a tree; thus kokokhôakw literally means “owl tree.” The English name of the tree is balsam fir, which is favored by owls for sheltering their owlets. (Sleeping Barred Owlets is a photograph by Jennie Marie Schell.)
Along the way here, I will mention a few more observations about the Abenaki dialect, which I assume would apply to many other Algonkian dialects. In the westernabenaki.com website, our teachers Jesse Bruchac and Conor Quinn have provided a list of shape-defining syllables. The -akw suffix that I have just noted is shown in its median slot (2nd of 3 positions) as meaning “rigid” and one of the examples given is “tas-akw-abon” which is the word for “chair” — “the rigid object one sits on.“
Recently, I conducted an overview course for Berkshire OLLI on the Indigenous Peoples of the Northeast, which included a few examples of language use. At the end of that course, one of my students requested a list of Abenaki names for trees. I have assembled such a list, but gathering it turned into a bigger project than I had expected. I ended up with 91 entries, and there could have been many more. Fewer than half of those are actual tree names; the rest are words that relate to fruits of trees or bushes (such as “sata” — the word for “blueberry”), or words for types of woods, or for areas that have been cleared of trees, and many others that I thought would be of interest.
Here are a few examples. Each line is taken directly from a recent version of the online Abenaki dictionary1 being used in the language course I mentioned. The Abenaki word is given first, followed by its plural (pl), and then an English translation.
abazi pl abaziak tree, a living tree
maskwaimozi pl maskwaimoziak a white birch
satamozi pl satamozial blueberry bush
medawinnoibegotaigan pl medawinnoibegotaiganal a witches broom, an abnormal growth of tree branches
In English, plurals are usually formed by adding an “s” (e.g. plural/plurals), although there are of course many other forms (e.g. blueberry/blueberries). In Algonkian, it is not quite that simple, because there are two types of names. In the examples just given, the first two plurals are formed by adding “ak” to the singular word, and in the other two, the plural is formed by adding “al.”
Jesse and Conor have enhanced my understanding of (and appreciation for) the Algonkian dual grammar, by defining “na” and “ni” words as being “independent” and “dependent” — in contrast to what many prior linguists had been calling “animate” and “inanimate.” In the examples given here, “abazi na” means “that one is a tree” and “satamozi ni” means “that thing is a blueberry bush” — notice that both of these are considered “animate” in English/Western culture.
The Abenaki word for “witches broom” is an exact translation of the English phrase, but I cannot find an explanation of where the term came from. I welcome comments from anyone who can shed some light on that one.
Languages evolve organically over many centuries, and linguists try to detect patterns, but exceptions will usually exist to any classification scheme they try to impose. Moreover, it is not always possible to figure out how one word became a “na” word and another one became a “ni” word — in fact, the usage may differ between dialects or even between speakers of the same dialect. That a tree is a “na” (independent being) probably reflects the Native understanding that trees were here long before humans, and do just fine growing on their own. Blueberry bushes, on the other hand, may thrive only if they are cultivated. (Cultivation, in the Native sense, does not necessarily involve planting, but may simply be aiding a plant by providing sunlight, or otherwise enhancing its environment.) These speculations are my own; language is what it is, and is not bound by logic.
anaskemezi pl anaskemeziak a red or black oak tree, Quercus rubra, Quercus velutina
ôgemakw pl ôgemakok white ash (snowshoe wood, Fraxinus americana)
pabalakw pl pabalakok American sycamore, smooth tree, Platanus occidentalis
wajoimizi pl wajoimiziak a beech tree, Fagus
Note here that two of these plurals are formed by replacing the terminal “w” (an aspirate sound) with “ok” — the constant feature here is that “na” words have plurals that end in “k” (whereas “ni” plurals end in “l”).
One could use these names (and many others listed in my spreadsheet) to simply point and say, “Wajoimizi na!” (“That is a beech tree!”). Or, to treat the trees in a more friendly way, one could say “Kwai kwai, wajoimizi, paakwinôgwzian!”
transliteration: Hello hello, beech tree, you look new to me!
translation: Hello there, beech tree, it’s good to see you again!
The spreadsheet just mentioned has three pages. The first page (which you can read without downloading) has a list of all my entries, divided into three sections, and sorted by their English names. The sections are (1) tree names, (2) fruits, bushes, and other related items, and (3) animal names.
The second page has the same three sections, sorted by their Abenaki names. In both of these pages, you can see that pattern of plurals, ending mostly with “k” for the trees and animals and mostly “l” for the other items.
The third page has all of the entries sorted by their Abenaki names, which will allow you to see other relationships, such as the owl tree example given earlier.
I hope I have provided some helpful comments about how to use the names, and some hints at how important trees were in the culture of the people who inhabited these parts for thousands of years before Europeans arrived.
The list here is not exhaustive; it covers most trees (and some other related objects) that one is likely to encounter during a casual hike in the Berkshires and nearby areas. When I lead a hike, I sometimes offer an incantation: “N’dalosabna kpiwi pasojiwi ta pôzidôkiwi ta nopaiwi!” (“We are going into the woods nearby and over the hill and far away!”).
I am happy to take requests for trees that are missing from this collection, and will try to find the names and add them to the list.
Abenaki Dictionary, originally compiled by Joseph Joubert & Jesse Bruchac, and now maintained by Jesse and the Abenaki language community. (Hint: the orthography is based on French; e.g. the letter “i” is pronounced “ee”)