If you can have Indian summer, then there should be a woodchuck winter.

by Alex Carrier

You know what I am talking about. Winter has lingered to the point where everyone is tired of the gloom, the glum and the cold.

Finally, the woodchuck (groundhog) comes out of his den and declares “Spring is on the way.” (or so his entourage, handlers, posse, peeps, groupies translate for the rest of us) Ah, sweet, warm, colorful spring.

I admit to liking the cold but the black and white of winter gets dreary and I long for that moment when I can look at the trees instead of through them. I want to wake up with the morning sun and start dinner before dark. I want to walk to the mailbox without taking 10 minutes to get bundled up against the frigid air.

And so, I innocently believe the prognostications of the groundhog (woodchuck). I forget I live in a temperate weather zone which simply means it is all you can do to keep your temper while nature decides what season it will be – today.

This time, it appears Phil (or one of his many aliases) is correct. The weather warms and I hum happily as I begin to pack away all the heavy garments of warmth. Temperatures are balmy and the flora stretch and yawn after their long winter’s nap. Spring is here!

Alas, fickle Phil and Virginia intemperate weather strikes again and suddenly we are plunged back into below freezing temperatures, frigid rain, chilling winds and hours spent unpacking all those cozy, insulated winter clothes.
Woodchuck winter strikes again.

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