Groundhog Day

Groundhog Day

It is groundhog day. Today, groundhogs all over North America are roused from their winter sleep to give humans a hint of what is to come: an early spring, or six more weeks of winter? 

Just yesterday, I went skiing. It was a bright cold day, not a cloud in the sky. My skis glided over the packed snow, the sun shone glitter all over the trees and the winding trail. It was the best kind of winter day, the kind that inspires post cards and tourist brochures for hardy tourists.

Halfway through my route, I saw two adirondack chairs covered in snow, with just the backs showing, waiting. They were at the edge of the forest, and the backyards of houses were only a few meters away. I took a picture. They seemed such a cheerful sight, a sign that soon they could  give someone a ring-side seat to the forest’s awakening. In the middle of a brittlely cold afternoon, their presence foretold of another time, a new season.

Groundhogs be wiser than humans. No matter what they see today, wherever they are, spring will come this year, when it is ready. 

Maybe that’s where hope lives, in the impermanence of everything we experience.