In case you missed it, last week Punxsutawney Phil saw his shadow, declaring to the nation there will be six more weeks of winter. Given that members of the Punxsutawney Groundhog Club (yes, this is really a thing) insist there has only been one Punxsutawney Phil since the shadow-spotting tradition began in 1886, I don’t put a lot of faith into the prediction. A few top hat-wearing men with questionable taste in social clubs who continue to maintain a rodent gets his longevity from a secret “elixir of life” isn’t the most trustworthy bunch. And since most of us realize a 137-year-old groundhog is about as realistic as flying reindeer, we understand the silhouette of a burrowing mammal is hardly something to plan our spring garden around. Declared lifespan aside, Phil’s accuracy rate is relatively low. It’s somewhere around 40 percent over the last decade, which is pretty much the same as the human meteorologists.
Despite my reservations, given the winter we’ve seen thus far, I wouldn’t have been surprised if the furry weather prophet saw his shadow twice. Even if it doesn’t snow another inch between now and mid-April, we’re still in for a long, muddy, shoulder season. So, while I’m admittedly skeptical, it does seem Phil’s accuracy rating will kick up a notch this year.
If he does know something, it would have been nice of him to give the sandhill cranes a heads up.
Most years, these magnificent, if not a bit awkward, creatures are the avian calendar equivalent of St. Patrick’s Day — they used to fly into town in mid-March to mate in roughly the same spot as years past. Next to hummingbirds, the sandhill cranes are my favorite annual visitors, and I look forward to seeing their knobby knees prance across the marsh. Though right now, I’m a bit worried about their timing.
It’s early February and I’ve already spotted two tall gangly birds. I was out with my dogs on the Rail Trail over the weekend and was surprised to hear their telltale call – a honking gasp for air. To me, they always sound like a goose with sleep apnea, who is also recovering from a hangover. Moments after hearing their snoring-goose sound, I spotted them in the chilly waters off the trail, looking a little bewildered.
As excited as I was to see the pair, I can’t help but be concerned for their welfare. It appears we’ve still got a lot more winter left, and it’s going to be a minute before all this snow melts enough for them to build a proper nest, much less lay an egg in it. Of course, it’s possible the birds know something we (and a groundhog) don’t. Perhaps they’re betting on warmer temps and a quick thaw.
The first official day of spring — or as we call it here in Park City, the 217th day of winter — is still a few weeks off. On the calendar at least. It remains to be seen if our plumaged pals are just getting a jump start on their summer nesting plans or they are tuned in to nature and spring is about to sprung.
Or maybe they’re just really confused. There’s no shortage of peer-reviewed studies showing climate change has manipulated bird migration patterns. They follow food sources and raise their young where nourishment is plentiful — and destinations and times of arrival are changing with the weather. Quite literally.
For their sake, I’m hoping they consider a quick trip to Phoenix for a few weeks.