The air feels suspended when drizzle starts. Not quite rain, not quite mist, but something in between. Drops so small they hover before they fall. The word itself belongs to that weather — soft, slow, and half-heard. Drizzle goes back to Middle English drislen, built from drēosan, the Old English verb for ‘to fall’. It carries the sound of its meaning, like sparkle or trickle, where the ending -le shows repetition or continuity.

The Germanic languages stay close: German Niesel, Dutch motregen, Swedish duggregn, Norwegian yr. The Romance family turns inward, to bruine, llovizna, chuvisco. Even the Celtic words speak of softness — Irish ceobhrán, Welsh glaw mân. Across Europe the image is the same: thin rain that blurs into air.

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Ember: What Survives the Fire