This past Monday saw the return of a yearly event in my home state of Pennsylvania: Groundhog Day. Groundhogs are large rodents that live underground. The saying is that if one of these animals sees his shadow on this day, six more weeks of winter will follow. If he doesn’t, then spring will come early.
The tradition was brought over by German immigrants, but has its roots in pagan times. February 2 has an astronomical significance as the halfway point between the first day of winter and the first day of spring. Cloudy mornings are warmer than sunny mornings, so if it’s cloudy, there’s a chance that the warm weather will continue.
These days, one groundhog gets all the attention; he’s Punxsutawney Phil, and he lives in the town of Punxsutawney in central Pennsylvania. On Groundhog Day, local officials hold a ceremony at sunrise, and announce whether Phil has seen his shadow. Usually he does see it, and he saw it this year, too. I think this has something to do with Phil being pulled out of his hole and put under the bright lights of the TV cameras. The story has to get onto the morning news; there’s no time to wait for morning, or any actual shadows, to arrive.
Not surprisingly, Phil’s predictions are only slightly more accurate than random guesses. This isn’t stopping Pennsylvania from marketing Phil as a symbol of the state. The state tourist board, VisitPA, arranges trips to Punxsutawney, where visitors can see the event before going to potentially more interesting places, such as the chocolate factory in Hershey or the historic battlefield at Gettysburg.
The state government made Phil an official mascot in 2007 in a rather embarrassing music video, in which a man-sized groundhog raps to young people about the importance of choosing a career in health care. He is cheered on by shouts of “Go, G-Hog! Go, G-Hog!”
Outside Pennsylvania, Groundhog Day seems to be best known from the film of the same name. Bill Murray plays a TV reporter who is sent to cover the groundhog ceremony, which he finds trivial and boring. He’s then caught in a time loop and forced to relive February 2 again and again. Slowly he realizes that perhaps he’s the one who’s boring. He learns to make each day special and different from the others.
That, I suppose, is a lesson we can all celebrate.
