Early Spring? Ask the psychic quadruped

My handy dandy Old Farmers Almanac calendar reminds me that this Sunday is Candlemas, also known in meteorological mythology as the day a psychic rodent - hedgehog, groundhog, call it what you will - can predict the weather.

February 2 marks the midpoint between the first day of winter and the first day of spring.

It’s also known as Cross Quarter Day and for Bill Murray lovers, Groundhog Day.

Apart from the Christian aspect, the observance is rooted in the seasons – estimating how soon spring-like weather will come, and when to plant the crops. For instance, “it was not held as a good omen if the day itself was bright and sunny, for that betokened snow and frost to continue to the hiring of the laborers six weeks later on Lady Day” – the Feast of the Annunciation. But if it was cloudy, warmer temps and rain would thaw out the ground and have the fields ready for planting.

In other words:

If Candlemas Day be fair and bright

Winter will have another fight

If Candlemas Day brings clouds and rain

Winter won’t come again

I’ve recently been shooting my mouth off to people about how we’re already seeing the first signs of spring even though it’s still January, barely. Okay, I admit I was trying to be Mr. Know-It-All and making an audacious prediction right smack in the middle of winter, but I’m crossing my fingers that I’m not too far off.

With the temps gradually bouncing a wee bit higher each week, and the wind has that spring-like bluster to it, who can say? Just call me a groundhog, I guess. Drag me from the comfort zone of my burrow and see if I retreat or venture out.

There’s one thing about weather, though. It’s one of those conversation topics that fill in the gaps when you’ve got nothing else, much like trying to come up with a topic for a newspaper column. The weather is always something to talk about. I would guess that the weather is the number one ice-breaker between strangers, no pun intended. We say things like, “Sure is a pretty day, huh? Or, “Cold/hot enough for you?” Or, “We need the moisture” (to be interchanged with “It’s good for the farmers/crops/waterin’ holes”).

Just try not to keep from asking a tall person, “How’s the weather up there?” I’m sure they’ve heard it before.

Actually, I read last week that the weather is talked about more than any other topic every day; somebody came up with stats. The average person talks about the weather four times a day for an average of 8 minutes and 21 seconds.

As the old saw goes: “Everybody talks about the weather, but nobody does anything about it.”

That’s all well and good, but I know a couple of people who think the government is secretly controlling the weather with “chemtrails.” If you’re not aware of this conspiracy theory, you can find more than enough on chemtrails on YouTube, along with the faked moon landing videos, Bigfoot revelations, political nonsense, the Oscars, or a YouTube celebrity du jour.

Wait, I know what you’re thinking … how do I know about all that? Am I one of those layabouts addicted to YouTube? Au contraire, mi amigo. After the passing last week of Garth Hudson of The Band, I was searching for archived videos, having seen The Band play live in concert decades ago.

His eulogy also found me delving into my cobwebbed vinyl record collection, where I pulled out a copy of The Band’s “Music From Big Pink,” and I’m not ashamed to say I got a little weepy listening to them on my cheapie record player.

The only records I own are the ones I bought in the 60s and 70s, but nowadays, there are vinyl collectors who throw a lot of effort into collecting rare records and stereo systems. I saw a comic strip with a man talking to another about his vinyl collection. He said, “I think it’s the expense and inconvenience I find appealing.”

Anyway, and pardon me for showing my bias, but as a rule, older music is better than most of what’s coming out today. I guess when you get down to it, a good song that may have been recorded 30, 40, or 50 years old is still, simply, a good song.

Those old songs are not unlike a piece of art; no matter if it was painted 10 years ago or yesterday, it’s new and appreciated by somebody, somewhere in this world every day.

Speaking of art, one of Socorro’s most fun and boisterous events is coming up next week: the Community Arts Party over at Finley Gym.

In the meantime, I’m going to be watching for that first daffodil to pop up.