The Pennsylvania Dutch settlers believed if the groundhog witnessed his shadow at midpoint between the winter solstice and the spring equinox, they were in for six additional weeks of winter hardship.
On the other hand, if the groundhog saw no shadow, they all rejoiced in the prediction of an early spring. Of course, this also meant earlier opportunities for said groundhog to snack on their crops.
Every year on February 2, Groundhog Day, anxious spectators gather around the dwellings of groundhogs, hoping the groggy critter will dictate an early retirement for their snow shovels.
Pennsylvania’s Punxsutawney Phil highlights the most celebrated tradition. Masters of Ceremony dress in traditional Pennsylvania-Dutch fashion, speak in dialect and rudely extract the snoozer from its abode.
Coos ensue because Phil looks so darned cute as he sleepily gazes at all those eyes fixed upon him and wonders why he was rousted from his long winter’s nap.
Groundhog Day produces the most widely viewed weather forecast. But prognosticating groundhogs’ predictions, coupled with their cute factor, trump those of all meteorologists.
Does anyone relish being rousted from a cozy slumber? Such stardom is a cross to bear. Perhaps groundhogs should unite, in rebellion, to discover the snooze button on these inconsiderate humans’ alarm clocks.