Skip to main content

The groundhog says...

Drum roll, please!


Phil, the famous weather prognosticating groundhog of Punxsutawney, PA, will be closely watched on February 2, as he has been for 120 years. Not the same groundhog, of course, although some say he is: magic punch fed to Phil each summer lengthens his life by seven years. 

And who knows? Maybe. Sometimes it seems like meteorologists may have been sipping some sort of punch…although, I must say, they’ve been accurate about the snowstorms this winter.

If Phil sees his shadow when he pokes his head out of the burrow, he'll scurry back inside for six more weeks of winter. 



But given the current weather across much of the country, sun and shadows seem unlikely. That would mean an early spring!

Except that, while Punxsutawney Phil has forecast an early spring 14 times in his 114 recorded predictions to date, his predictions have been correct only 39% of the time.

So we might be better off if he does see his shadow.

But don’t tell poor Phil that spring--the vernal equinox--is a fixed date based on when the sun is directly over the equator. This year it will arrive officially on March 20, at 11:21 p.m. So there’s a bright light at the end of winter’s six-week tunnel no matter what Phil does.

Whether the mounds of snow we have now will melt by then is another story. And I’m betting we’ll still have mounds of it left.

But in any case, even for those of us who like snow, doesn’t it feel good to know that spring is only six weeks away?

Comments

Canadapt said…
My First Nations friends laugh at me when I note the season on the basis of date and not on what I see, smell, feel, etc. when I walk about. I remember distinctly walking with a Chief talking some business years ago and saying that it felt like fall (it was cold, there was frost, the trees had started to turn colour, etc.) even though it was only late August. He looked at me with a smile and said, "Michael, it is fall - your senses are telling you what season it is - the calendar is only an estimation of reality!" Having said that, I note that even though Spring is officially here in 6 weeks I know from long experience of where I live that winter will be here for a long time after that - perhaps as much as 16 weeks! Beautiful photos as always!
Ruth L.~ said…
Your First Nation friend is right, as you are. I could as easily have written about feeling springlike weather irregardless of how the planets are aligned. But somehow, when it is OFFICIALLY spring I'm happy no matter what the weather...because the good weather can't be far off! Besides it's my birthday on the first day of spring. :>)
Pauline said…
Ruth - and my birthday the day before! No wonder we write of much the same things! The flowers at the end of your post made me smile, knowing that a mere six (perhaps 7 or 8?) weeks lie between me and the five foot snowbank outside my window!

Interestingly, the word verification is fight!
Ruth L.~ said…
So Pauline...you and I seem to be among the few who can continue to claim our original zodiak sign...for what that's worth. Being a Pisces is why I named this blog Upstream and down.
Janice Thomson said…
Today our groundhog did see his shadow and looking at all this snow I too think we have a ways to go yet before winter dies away - so I'll just close my eyes and dream about those pretty purple flowers :)
Wanda said…
Hi Ruth ~ What an interesting read, and I haven't followed the ground hog tradition. But it was fun reading some history of it.

Do love your spring flowers, they are lovely.

Popular posts from this blog

For Alice~ She's home!!!!!!!

What lies behind us and what lies before us are tiny matters compared to what lies within us. ~Ralph Waldo Emerson Sometimes it's all about knowing that loved ones and friends stand behind you, knowing that support is there on the down days, the worry days, the days when you feel off-center, out of sync, bedraggled emotionally, and in pain, but knowing all the while that you're not alone. You're not alone... Alice is an online friend--she lives in Hawaii-- who belongs to the writer's workshop that I do. We've only "met" online, but those who have online friendships know that they can be just as strong as those in-person relationships. Alice was hit by a car while walking, and is in the rehab phase of things. She's working to regain mobility after a broken pelvis, a broken arm, and a broken nose. It's scary to realize how, in the blink of an eye, life can lurch and our plans for a time are displaced by survival and healing. We...

Killing time~

I'd woken feeling stuffy headed, slightly allergy-ish, puffy-eyed, and a tad grumpy. Lots to do, little time in which to do it, school issues keeping me in a state of angst, I considered not going to David's game. But it was Saturday, the game fairly close to home-- Salem State College-- an hour or so north through Boston to the town of Salem, famous for the 1692 witch trials that saw 19 suspected witches, many of them social outcasts, hang on Gallows Hill. A change of pace was what I needed whether I wanted it or not, so I went. I squeezed in a walk around the block that enclosed Salem State's O'Keefe Center while waiting for the game to begin. Just to kill time. I get so few chances to do that. Others walking, too, passed with no eye contact, no greetings, just sharing the same planet. Two were coming toward me. Still unfocused in the distance . . . one was tall, the other short . . . two men . . . loose clothing . . . like army clothes, camouflage . . . beard and lon...

Missing Becky~

Becky~ August 19, 1991 to April 26, 2010 She was so loved, this gentle pet of mine.  And how she loved us back. I've been alone in my house before, of course. Those days when my husband took the kids out for the day, being able to vacuum without a baby in one arm and a toddler, riding the vacuum cleaner like it was a bronco, was solitary pleasure. Later there were quiet days as the kids were at camp and my husband at work. And then came the bittersweet aloneness when kids left home for college and a life apart. Still, I'd always liked being alone, knowing it was short lived. This morning, after my husband pulled out of the driveway with a day full of plans,  I stood in the living room feeling alone in a way I never had before.  An unfamiliar emptiness and silence surrounded me. Yesterday we put our 18-year-old cat, Becky, to sleep. The decision to do so was surprisingly easy. The vet had told us Becky would let us know when it was time, and somehow she did. But ...