Harley

Harley rumbles out of an Old English place name, hara and leah, hare meadow, the kind of quiet clearing where rabbits grazed at dusk. The motorcycle company hijacked the sound in 1903 and gave it a leather-and-chrome second life; Harley Quinn gave it comic-book anarchy. It drifts unisex with remarkable ease, equally convincing on a tomboy in cut-off denim or a boy with a grin and grass stains. Ranked 397 in the U.S., it is countrified and rebellious at once. Two syllables, the R rolling soft, the long E at the close sunny. A name with engine oil and wildflowers both under its nails.