Who's Smirking Now?

I love Woodchucks/Groundhogs. They line Indiana paths in the spring, sometimes with babies, and stand straight up looking as if they were expecting me and welcoming me to their world.

This year, though, Punxsutawney Phil lied and spring is yet to paint the trees green. So this relative of old Phil has no place to hide up in his tree. Is he planning to chuck some wood?

Poet and writer Robert Frost may have spread some light on the subject of woodchucks in his poem A Drumlin Woodchuck or was it us humans that Frost was writing about? The full poem and some thoughts on the subject can be found here.