The weatherman used a term for rain I’d never heard before.
Now, being both from Washington state and having had a career in TV news, I thought I knew every adjective there was to describe the wet stuff from the sky. Like Eskimos have 30 words for “snow,” Washingtonians have at least a dozen words for liquid precipitation. And meteorologists? At least a baker’s dozen.
But this was a new one even for me, the expert on all things dreary.
And this morning, I got a good look at just what “glazed” means.
Our farm had been glazed. Not frosted, not iced, but glazed. Dripping in frozen rain.
What looked like puddles were actually sheets of ice. The chickens would take off running for some cracked corn and then skate down the yard. It was the funniest thing I’ve ever seen to watch our flock of barred rocks slip and slide on their way to get some treats. The gate to the pasture had multiple levels and layers of icicles, like transparent, sparkly fringe. Beautiful.