Well, here we are again in the bleak midwinter; 45 days past, and 45 to go in this season, it would seem.
The great poet Christina Rossetti penned that beautiful "in the bleak midwinter" poem back in 1872, and while she intended it to describe the time of Christmas (It was originally titled "A Christmas Carol") that term pretty well works for this moment in time, as well. In spite of the "bleak" angle, the poem is a wonderful and inspiring read, if you'd like to look it up, but I digress here.
Those of us coming from the Christian faith tradition may also well recall that today marks Candlemas, that ancient mid-winter church tradition of blessing candles during this dark time of year, as well as the presentation of Jesus in the Temple, but again, I digress.
Digressing seems to be what I do so often these days with my writing, and I suppose that beats regressing, but again....I digress here.
Anyway, for most of us, today is probably best known as Groundhog Day, although many years ago, it was BEARS that the peasants in Germany looked out for, that might have been coming out of their lairs around this time of year to stretch their legs and look for food. Thing is, bears...hungry bears...might be interpreted as being a mite more intimidating to little children, so the smaller hibernating mammal, the humble little groundhog, was substituted in the popular folklore.
And yes, fellow Lakewoodites, even around these parts, bears were once prolific; at least until the Great Hinckley Hunt in 1818, exactly two hundred years ago. It was then, on Christmas Eve. 1818, that the good settlers of this area decided to rid Northeast Ohio of bears and wolves forever and for that matter, anything non-human that happened to be moving around on that day. The muskets cracked, and the animals fell, and the buzzards swooped in to feast on the carrion.
Every year, the descendants of those buzzards return to Hinckley looking for more carcasses, but again....I digress here.
For those of you who have followed my columns over the years, my parrot "Groundparrot Gilligan" gave Lakewood her predictions for the next six weeks. When Gilly passed away, my bodacious little conure, "Badweather BB" took over. Last year, BB's predictions trumped all other predictions and indeed, his prediction prevailed. This year, BB looked out the window and shivered, seeing his shadow in spite of the rolling clouds...
It seems that winter indeed, shall stick around for a bit, dear readers, but there is indeed a bright side to this, and indeed there is to virtually every story....if one looks hard enough.
....At least there were no buzzards present today to chase little BB around....but again, I digress here.
Photo of bear and groundhog, courtesy of my good friend Will.
Back to the banjo...
