It’s easy to forget that place names are not “real” in the sense that they exist other than in our collective minds, but are impermanent markers bestowed on places by man. There’s nothing that commands New York is “New York,” the Mississippi River to be so named, or the island of Molokai to be called that.
I’m reminded of this each time I fly. From 35,000 feet you can see many natural barriers and landmarks, but there are no labels on the land as on a map. This gives a fleeting sense of perspective which reduces political distictions — which are bolstered by names and labels — to a somewhat random convention, and makes the age-old fights over land and territory seem a bit trivial.
If you didn’t already possess that sense, then Names on the Land by George R. Stewart (originally published in 1945, republished in 2008), should give

