Katalea dances on the tongue like the first aria at La Scala, its four syllables—kuh-TAY-lee-uh—rising in a warm crescendo that evokes the golden glow of a Tuscan dusk; it draws from the ancient Greek katharos, “pure,” and drapes itself in an Italianate hem of –alea, conjuring the lyrical promise of a gift spun from sunlit verande in Sorrento. With each breath it whispers of grace and clarity, as though plucked from olive groves swaying beneath a sapphire sky. Though still a rare jewel—hovering around the nine-hundredth rank with twenty-two newborn bearers in 2024—Katalea invites discovery, offering its bearer an air of artistry, whispered elegance, and a spirit as luminous as the Venetian canals at dawn.