She became so fond of this tree she gave it a name (Isabella–why, you’d have to ask her; and she would likely say “it just looked like an Isabella). And she gave it (‘scuse me, HER) a face.
So we’ll pass on, Isabella’s face will persist. And centuries hence, an entire folk explanation will spring up for the discovery of a woodlands race that worshipped trees on a steep hillside overlooking what one man long ago called Nameless Creek. What must they have been like, they’ll wonder.