I know I shouldn’t and that there is no science based evidence that the ground hog can predict the melting of snow, the temperatures rise and winter’s exit, but, in spite of all odds, I believe. I have this faith in the furry beast that he can look into some kind of a critter crystal ball and pull spring out of his hat like a magician in a side show act.
Maybe it is because February is filled with dreary days of grey skies and grey ground like the fog that shrouded my drive on the way home tonight after watching my grandson. We couldn’t see more than two feet in front of us, and my husband, that knows these roads like the back of his hand, had trouble maintaining a straight path. Perhaps it is because we lost a dear family member this week and next week will be the anniversary of my father’s death. Maybe it is all of that, but I want, no I need to believe in spring.
God brings forth life from the cold earth. Trees green, flowers sprout, water gurgles, children run and even my dog prances with a beat of the youth he may remember from days gone by. Winter’s harsh beauty makes way for a softer, gentler loveliness reminding us of God’s mercies and love.
The ground hog brought a lightness to my step today in spite of the bad news we have had lately. He helped restore a bit of hope that road trips and the colors of spring may be in the near future.
Bless you ground hog. I will remember you in my prayers tonight!