By Jennie Shurtleff
If you ask most Americans what special day falls on February 2, they would likely answer Groundhog Day. Every year, between 12,000 and 30,000 people descend on Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, for the official ceremony starring Punxsutawney Phil, while many more watch the ceremony remotely. However, long before there was such a thing as Groundhog Day, February 2 was celebrated as Candlemas Day – a day of religious remembrance that over time (like so many other religious days) became increasingly more secular.
Candlemas Day supposedly started as a celebration in honor and remembrance of Mary and Joseph taking Jesus to the Temple forty days after his birth. At the Temple, Jesus was “presented,” and Mary underwent “purification” rites, as women (according to the tenets of the Jewish faith) were considered unclean after childbirth. Based on this event, an integral part of the Candlemas celebration for Christians became the blessing of candles, which signify the inner light/Jesus that drove away darkness as well as being a remembrance of the day that Jesus was inducted into Judaism.
While Candlemas Day supposedly marked forty days after Jesus’s birth, it also marked the halfway point between the winter solstice and the spring equinox, and therefore it was a special day for other groups, such as the ancient Celts, who observed and based their rituals around nature. Given the significance of the day, it is not surprising that as Christianity spread, the tradition of Candlemas Day became intertwined with those of other cultures for whom the day was linked with natural forces. Out of this combining of traditions came a belief that if Candlemas day was clear and sunny, there was still many more winter days ahead, but if the sky was cloudy and the weather was warm, spring was around the corner. This idea might have some basis in fact if one considers that on some clear days and nights, with no clouds to hold in the earth’s heat, it can be cooler than on cloudy days.
As people emigrated from Europe to the American colonies, they brought with them their holiday traditions, one of which was Candlemas Day. The saying “Half your wood and half your hay, You should have on Candlemas Day” became a common adage, and was one that was clumsily paraphrased by Henry David Thoreau in his journal entry on February 1, 1857, when Thoreau noted: A laborer on the railroad tells me it is Candlemas Day (February 2d) to-morrow and the winter half out. ‘half your wood and half your hay,’ etc., etc.; and, as that day is, so will be the rest of winter.” An adage such as “Half your wood and half your hay, You should have on Candlemas Day” clearly reflects the preoccupations of many New Englanders who were farmers, or relied on an agrarian community for their livelihood, and were concerned about running short of fuel or feed before they could procure more in the spring.
The people in New England were not the only ones aware of the Candlemas tradition and interpreted it as it befitted their lives. Many people who came from what is now Germany settled in Pennsylvania and brought with them the idea of Dachstag or “Badger Day,” which appears to have started out as Candlemas Day but then ended up with an animal weather prognosticator being wrapped into the celebration.
In parts of what is now Germany, in the first few days of February, as the weather typically begins to warm, it is not uncommon for badgers and other small animals to begin to emerge from their dens and burrows. Since it is more likely on a bright, clear day that an animal will cast a shadow, one can whimsically imagine the situation of an animal seeing its shadow and being scared, and therefore returning to its warm, cozy den for six or so more weeks. This whimsical idea appears to have been merged with the previous belief that a bright, clear day was a predictor of cool weather to come. Since badgers and hedgehogs, which were common weather prognosticators in Europe, were not to be found in Pennsylvania, the Candlemas custom evolved once again. The badger/hedgehog of German lore found itself being replaced by its American counterpart — a chubby groundhog — as the main forecaster of spring.
On February 2, 1886, Groundhog Day was first celebrated in Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, and the following year the full spectacle, with a groundhog serving as the meteorologist of the day, was first held at Gobbler’s Knob.
This, of course, leads to the inevitable question of how accurate is a weather-predicting rodent? Perhaps a surprise to no one, if our current meteorologists who have radar and technology at their disposal can’t accurately predict what the weather will be in a week, what hope has a poor little groundhog that doesn’t have a meteorology degree or the advantage of high-tech toys. According to an online source, written by someone who has lots to time to tabulate such information, Punxsutawney Phil’s record is dismal. However, even if we can’t rely on Punxsutawney Phil as a weather forecaster, he is a great reminder of how customs and traditions evolve, and he hopefully gives us insights and an appreciation of our past.
Photo of Groundhog Day celebration in Punxsutawney, PA.
Photo courtesy of Chris Flook, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons
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