It's February 2nd here in Groundhog Country and before I go anywhere I'll tell you what you want to know: At 8:14 this morning, Wiarton Willie (marmota prognosticus) proclaimed to the world that he did not see his shadow, and thus did herald an early spring.

We started out at 5:17 this morning; I'd packed it in last night just after midnight, way too late considering but no, I wasn't partying in prep, I was fighting with machines trying to figure out why Drupal and my cellphone wouldn't talk to each other (nothing in the server logs, so I suspect it's somewhere in Rogersland where it goes astray). Nolan and Kaelin had asked Mama about going to the Prediction, them having had some discussions at their school about it all, and I happily signed up to take them, so we'd all set our alarms for 5:30 ... their's was maybe just a little off.

A quick hot-chocolate, I reheated some moka from last night, got into the long-johns and sweaters and coats and hats and mittens and out we headed into that good night, by way of a Tim Hortons, out to The Meeting Place (aka The Propeller Club) the hub of the Groundhog Prediction Universe and home to a pretty generous breakfast of pancakes, sausages and lemonade.

And everyone was there. That's what I like best about it. It's still dark, it's cold, we're all carrying our coats about and jostling shoulder-to-shoulder and there's faces I maybe don't see all year except for this morning, and here we are again, just as if last year was yesterday. Art Halley is there, so's Fest-founder Mac Mackenzie of course, our Lions Club is out in force with Lion Cookie in plainclothes, Lion Gord spotted in the back of the crowd, Lions Joe and Prez Jim decked out in the white tuxedos, past-mayor Al and new-mayor Carl similarly decked, MPP Bill and MP David, the latter of whom this is maybe the only time all year I'd see him but that's ok because of the bunch he's the only one I don't know. InfoCOR alumnus Bill Walker is there too, doing a very clever dual duty as Willie's Spin Doctor, his medical surgeon garb also reminds us that he's a chief shaker in the Bruce Health Services fund-raising.

The kids and I tour the Willie Clipping Gallery that papers the walls of the dance hall, dating back to 1956, Nolan finds the photo his teacher had from 1992, they spot Mama on the Wake-Up Willie stage in 1996 ... and barely recognize me as the youthful minister of myth-information and first willie webmaster. We go on to the 4-panel 1999 with all the pourings of sympathy and remembrances for the Great One, Old Willie, and by the time we get to maybe 2002 it's showtime.

The Propeller Club is like a punctured aerosol can, people streaming out through the narrow narrow long hallway, out from the dance hall to the parking lot bordered with television and radio remote-broadcast trucks, and more old familiar faces, some with and some without names. There's Ralph up there on fiddle with the Red Hat Singers (no, nothing to do with Linux), and the Willie-Wannabees, a famous troupe of party-faithful (pardon the pun) wrapped in their traditional Willie head-gear (think "Fred Flintstone Water-buffalo", then think "White and fluffy") ... and the bell rings, and the procession follows the Town Crier, and the white-draped cage is carefully hoisted to the stage, and it's showtime.

I stood next to an on-the-spot weatherman, luckily one of those few who doesn't pretend to out-predict Wee Willie (or I might have decked him) and both of us looking up at the sky, well, it's sunrise by now and it's still anyone's guess. Just as the non-committal Environment Canada prediction had said, it's sunny and cloudy and a chance of snow. There was no pre-prepping the presses this year, we'd have to wait it out. It ain't over until the fat rodent sings.

"I'd better cut this short while the sun's not out ..."

Brought a giggle, but didn't really stop the speeches and the thanks to volunteers and sponsors and all.

Not that it matters. Willie is a punctual thing, on a schedule like spring, Willie is hoisted up by Lion Jim, Willie and Mayor Carl confer, and the word is brought back to the MC: No shadow, early spring!

The crowd breaks like water-balloon, feets out splat, you can feel the release and the impact; what was a crowd pack shuffling back and forth to keep wwarm is now dispersed, the pomp and pageantry, order and protocol, it all falls apart in seconds. News crews turn to film their anchor or catch any white-tux dignitary they can, the kids swarm up the ramp to get a closer view, as Lion Jim lifts Willie high, flash cameras rapid-fire around the cage, zoom lenses whir.

"... and for the Superbowl ... Willie predicts the Patriots ... because Eagles eat Groundhogs ..."
Bill Walker, Spin Doctor