I don't know who started the tradition of Groundhog Day, but it's so silly. Oh, I'm not trynna pee into any o' body's cornflakes this 'morning, just scratching my head at some the rather odd traditions people do.
I forget which is the proper condition, but I assume that most Pennsylvania Winters are cloudy and overcast and don't let much sun through for anything to cast a shadow. Not always, but most Winter Days are gloomy. Folks gather at that Gobbler's Knob in the wee hours and wait. In the cold.
Oh hell no!
But if there's any truth to rodent prognostication, I'll lay my cards with an early Spring. After all, if the Farmer's Almanac, overzealous squirrels gathering food, and the colorist mood swings of wooly caterpillars can predict the seasons, why not rely on the devilishly fat woodchuckin', pig-whistlin', land beaver, Phil, eh?