The weatherman on ABC News the other night spoke of graupel, a lovely word that was new to me. It almost does the impossible and rhymes with purple.
November verse 8: Graupel The heavens opened, down came graupel, baby hail. The storm soon passed and downstairs' lawn shone green, white, purple – jacaranda, ice and grass. A rattling downpour, hints of thunder, then this calm nine-minute wonder. For a moment we knew grace, La Niña showed her lovely face. Not so in Molong, Forbes, and Nowra. There La Niña went to town to rip and drench, to smash and drown, then flashed her worst at poor Eugowra. She's no god we must appease. Code red: 1.5 degrees!
Added later: Photo taken from our kitchen window of our downstairs neighbours’ yard. The jacaranda blossoms don’t show up in this photo, but they were there.
Me fail? I fly! 