Sleet

March in Alabama was not a time for ice. Yet on the eve of the St. Patty’s Day parade, it was nearing the freezing point. Green shamrock flags decorated lamp posts along the planned route, but the banners hung limply, sodden with rain. At dawn, as the grand master placed the marchers in order, the rain turned to sleet. The damp froze as it struck the green jerkins of leprechauns, the pale blue frocks of winsome 4-H milk maids, and the camouflage of soldiers. Even the bright green John Deere tractors bore a luminescent sheen of frost while their cover-alled drivers waited for the signal to begin. The high school band struck up a lively jig, their fingers moving quickly to keep from freezing. The farmers struck the ignitions of their Irish-green machines on the fifth note. The frost faded as the green shone brightly again. The parade would go on.
[1-21-2010; 151 words; thanks to Suzanne Church for the prompt]