February 2, 2022
For the next two days we’re
supposed to get more snow—anywhere from 8 to 10 inches more, in fact. A
significant winter storm, the forecast said. Most of what we’ve already received
is still on the ground, though a tiny bit has melted from the few times the sun
shone down. Before I went to bed last night the temperature outside had begun
to rise. It was 40 at eleven last night. According to the weather network, when
the storm began it would be with rain. I’ve seen this movie before. The rain
looks like a friend as it melts some of the old snow, then the temperature drops,
the rain on the snow freezes, and then is covered with a ton of new snow. I’ve
seen that movie, and I hate that movie.
But last night as I took in
this information, my most pressing concern as I thought about this scenario
playing out once more was this: how on earth is the groundhog supposed to
emerge from his burrow, let alone see his shadow when he, like the rest of us,
could be covered in ice and snowed in tomorrow morning?
Well, imagine my surprise
(not) when I awoke this morning to….nothing. No ice. No new snow. I shook my
head and checked the weather network dot com again, and of course, the hourly
forecast show this latest rendition of snowmageddon beginning at ten a.m. today.
We’ll see if they have it
right this time.
Meanwhile, today is February second,
Groundhog Day. We here in the Ashbury household have always celebrated the day.
You may recall that my husband David, before he retired, worked at an open pit
mine. A quarry, which was an outdoor job all year round.
The great hope of Groundhog
Day was always the possibility of an early spring. He loved that job but
outside in the winter could be brutal. By the first of February, his craving
for spring was a real thing.
In the United States, the most
famous groundhog is Punxsutawney Phil. But there’s also Staten Island Chuck,
and Milltown Mel (New Jersey), Buckeye Chuck, in Ohio, Woodstock Willie in
Illinois, Potomac Phil, in Washington, D.C., Birmingham Bill in Alabama, and
Sir Walter Wally in Raleigh, North Carolina.
We have a couple of groundhogs
in Eastern Canada, too—Shubenacadie Sam in Nova Scotia, and of course, Wiarton
Willie, here in Ontario.
Despite the fact that I have
touched on the subject of Groundhog Day in more than one of these essays, I
always have to look up to see how this prognosticating thing goes. So here it
is, straight from the authentic academic accreditations of Wikipedia: If a
groundhog emerging from its burrow in this day sees its shadow due to clear
weather, it will retreat to its den and winter will go on for six more weeks;
if it does not see its shadow because of cloudiness, spring will arrive early.
Or as I explained it to my
kids, either way, it’s six weeks more weeks, because Groundhogs cannot really predict
the arrival of spring.
Our oldest never truly cared
one way or another, until he left school to work with his father at the quarry.
Now, all these years later, he’s still in the same industry, a manager, and
usually gets a few weeks off in the winter. When the forecast from Wiarton
Willy wasn’t a good one, he would joke aloud, wondering if anyone would get
angry enough to go groundhog hunting.
I had to tell him of that old
saying: don’t shoot the messenger.
Now, in the interests of clarity,
and brevity, I will reveal two American and two Canadian results of this year’s
rodent climate prognosticators: Both Punxsutawney Phil and Shubenacadie Sam
declare six more weeks of winter. Staten Island Chuck and Wiarton Willie have
proclaimed an early spring.
And I think, as I usually do,
that we’ll get spring-like weather beginning on April 1, 2022—following the six
months of winter that by then will have played out from October to March,
inclusive.
Love,
Morgan
http://www.bookstrand.com/morgan-ashbury
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