Horizon arrives like the first blush of dawn, a word born from the Greek horízōn, whispered through Latin and Old French before settling into English as huh-RY-zuhn. As unisex as a breeze off the Mediterranean, it sketches the line where tierra meets cielo, a waking invitation to adventure. Parents who pick Horizon aren’t just choosing a name—they’re tucking a compass into their child’s corazón, promising wind in the sails and dreams as vast as the pampas. It’s a wink at tradition—because who says a name can’t feel like a vacation?—and a poetic vow that life’s next chapter spreads beyond the eye’s reach. Anchoring its spot in the lower 900s of US baby charts—with about a dozen tiny Horizons arriving each year—este nombre feels like a fiesta of new beginnings, brimming with Latin brío and pure, sunlit possibility.