It’s Groundhog Day, and I could regale you with tales of my childhood connection to the film of that name (most of the movie was shot in McHenry County), or I could remind you all that groundhogs have an impressive array of nicknames. From the ever-earnest Wikipedia:
The groundhog is also referred to as a chuck, wood-shock, groundpig, whistlepig, whistler, thickwood badger, Canada marmot, monax, moonack, weenusk, red monk, land beaver, and, among French Canadians in eastern Canada, siffleux.
The thing about this list is that all the names on it are great. There isn’t a single name on it that isn’t great, and that includes “groundhog.” What a great name for a vaguely piggish burrowing creature.
Really, though. Go through that list. Picture a groundhog. If you don’t know what a groundhog looks like, here are pictures. Now. Call that thing a chuck. Call that thing a wood-shock. Call that thing a groundpig. Call that thing a whistlepig. Call that thing every single name on the list, and tell me that groundhogs are not a cosmic gift, not only to meteorology, not only to cinema, and not only to the forests and meadows, but to the English language itself. And we haven’t even gotten to the word “chuckling,” which is a term for a baby groundhog and therefore the English language’s best homonym.
So, happy Groundhog Day, to those in Punxsutawney, those in Woodstock, those in our friend Danny’s parents’ social circle who fondly remember the Groundhog Day celebrations they’d throw, and all the rest of us, as well. There is a God, and He loves us. If He didn’t, we wouldn’t have whistlepigs.
🥰