I just discovered that we have a new neighbor. He’s rather shy, but curious enough to venture from his home into my yard. I heard a rustling in the brush at the back of the lot so I opened the door to look. Apparently I surprised him because he quickly returned to his own home without pausing for an introduction. In fact, he moved a lot faster than I expected for a fat guy with short legs. I’m not judging. He could’ve said the same about me had I been the one on the run.

He stopped and pulled himself up to his full height and looked my way. When he noticed that I still had him in view he dove under a storage shed. I didn’t mean to scare him. Maybe I should’ve left my ball cap on.

When David got home I told him about our new neighbor and we looked out back. Sure enough, there he was, waddling around in the yard next door, glancing up occasionally for busy bodies who might want to mingle. He must’ve noticed us because once again he dove under the shed.

I understand. I’m not real social either.

I couldn’t help but wonder though. We live in the city on a busy road, so where did he come from? Was he really a she and did she have a family under that shed? Was she just venturing out to check the weather? Typically groundhogs have one job to do and that’s just one day a year. So was she having second thoughts about her earlier prediction?

According to the News & Observer report from Raleigh, NC and their groundhog Sir Walter Wally, we are all set for an early spring. So far that prediction has been correct. And according to the folks at the Weather Channel, Wally is ranked seventh most accurate rodent in the whole nation! He is correct 58% of the time which outranks his more famous counterpart Punxsutawney Phil who is only 37% accurate.

I wonder what my new neighbor thinks about all that. Is she as happy as I am to be waddling around the yard seeing daffodils, yellowbells and crocus blooming? [Is it croci when there are more than one?] Or is she like me, content just to hole up without interaction?

I sure hope so.

I’d hate to have to dive under a shed.

 

Lynna Clark lives in Salisbury. Read more at Lynna’s Wonderful Life at wordpress.com