At last January has vanished for another year. February has but four weeks and twenty eight days this year. February the birth month of my favorite uncle. One who died far too young many, many years ago. He was my father's younger brother and my grandmother's baby. Granny lived ninety three years but never got over his death. Tomorrow is the anniversary of his birth, February second. It is also the date of the whimsical GroundHog Day. Will he or will he not see his shadow? If he does see his shadow we are doomed to six more weeks of winter. If he does not see his shadow then what?? Probably six more weeks of winter anyway. Pauxatawny Phil up in State College, Pennsylvania -- does he really foretell the weeks left of winter??? Of course, we tease and all pretend to believe -- all in fun.
But back to my Uncle David who was born on the day of Phil's fictional predictions. One always wonders what he would have been like as a father and as he grew old. We never had the chance to know as he gave his life defending our freedom on foreign soil.
More about February now. This short month always brings with it the surety that Spring can not be far away which helps one to get through whatever cold weather Mother Nature stirs up. As it ends in comes windy wild March dancing and tripping its way along stirring up and moving whatever reminders of fall that were left behind. March winds clean the land and prepare for all of the new growth soon to arrive and adorn the landscape. February's days are for lovers and presidents.
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