Now that I’m using a slightly more spacious template for my personal phenology project, I find myself occasionally noticing things beyond my immediate surroundings. For example, last week I was making some notes before work. My brain wasn’t at its sharpest, but I had a thought about Groundhog Day that had never quite occurred to me before: that the prediction is whether or not spring will arrive at the old-fashioned start of the season (yes, February) or if it will arrive at the Gregorian start of the season (the spring equinox). I jotted down some coherent notes and went about my day, but have been mulling the idea over ever since. This initial thought required that I learn more about Groundhog Day as well as further my research about how different cultures have marked and tracked the seasons. Ultimately, this passing thought has yielded me some useful insights into my Culinary Saijiki manuscript, and I think learning more about the historic practice of Groundhog Day can provide a fruitful framework for naturalist and/or creative practices.
Groundhog Day emerges from a German custom in which a badger was the actual predictor of spring’s arrival. While badgers exist in North America, they’re primarily found in the Great Planes, and rarely in the regions where the Pennsylvania Dutch settled. As a result, Germans in the eastern United States decided to bestow responsibility on hedgehogs. Groundhog Day served an agricultural function back when our ability to track weather wasn’t as real-time and technological as it is now. The habits of the badger, and then the groundhog, provided a signal about the best time to start planting crops. A cloudy day on Groundhog Day (in which the groundhog would not see its shadow) suggested that planting weather was going to arrive soon. On the other hand, a sunny day actually indicated that a longer wintry period was in store, with a later planting season. The behavior of animals on the ground combined with the presence or absence of clouds in the sky provided humans with suggestions about when to begin the agricultural year.
The origins of Groundhog Day come out of ancient agricultural traditions in which the equinoxes and solstices were the height or midpoint of each season, unlike the Gregorian calendar, which uses these points as the beginning of each season. That means the starting points are days of the year that are less astronomically significant. Haiku practitioners know that in the classical Japanese calendar, spring begins around February 5th. In the Celtic tradition, Imbolc was the start of spring and generally occurred around February 2nd, the same as Groundhog Day. Even the old Christian observance of Candlemas, also occurring on February 2nd in Catholic and Protestant traditions, was considered the beginning of spring before the Gregorian calendar took over.
Today, Groundhog Day is observed almost exclusively in the United States and Canada, with the belief that if the Groundhog sees its shadow, there will be six more weeks of winter. However, if the Groundhog does not see its shadow, spring will arrive early . . . though according to the historical model, it wouldn’t be arriving early at all! Using the Gregorian calendar, Groundhog day tells us if spring will be early or on time. In older agricultural models, Groundhog Day tells us if spring will be on time or late. And while both models are valid, ultimately, the old agricultural models are more in line with lived human experience. I may be writing this on what we in the Midwest refer to as Fool’s Spring, but even that is a sign that the year is turning and a change is on the way. The material reality of spring will be here well before the equinox.
Although there isn’t empirical evidence that the actions of Punxsutawney Phil accurately predict the arrival of spring weather, I feel that’s ultimately beside the point. First, given the geographic diversity of the United States and Canada, spring does not arrive at the same time for every reigion–and nor does spring look the same. Cherry blossoms appear in Washington, D.C. and Seattle, but the lack of cherry blossoms in St. Louis doesn’t mean spring hasn’t arrived; we look for redbud blossoms instead. Further, it seems like too much a responsibility to ask a groundhog in Pennsylvania to predict the arrival of spring all the way out in Vancouver.
Perhaps Punxsutawney Phil’s predictions should only be applicable to Pennsylvania and parts of Northeast Ohio. Given the width of Pennsylvania, I’m not even sure Phil’s predictions can or should extend all the way to Philadelphia. But that doesn’t mean we can’t observe it if we live beyond that area. We can find our own groundhogs, or badgers, or other relevant animals. In fact, there are prognosticating animals all over the United States, such as an opossum in Alabama and an alligator in Texas. (You can view the map here: https://groundhog-day.com/map).
I think the purpose of Groundhog Day in the modern era is to encourage us to look for signs of spring wherever we are. It also serves as a reminder that we don’t have to wait for the equinox for spring to come. Historically, there have been many ways of documenting and tracking seasons, and ultimately, spring is going to come on its own time no matter what calendars or division systems that humans use. It’s less important to adhere strictly to a single calendar and more important to pay attention to the world around us.
