I would guess if you are reading this story you, like me, are already thinking about and wishing for the coming of spring. While the last couple of weeks of acceptable winter temperatures have been a nice break from winter, February 2 and the spotlight on whether Punxsutawney Phil will see his shadow, is a time many of us start asking, "How much more winter weather will there be?" and "How soon can we expect spring?" I'm one of those folks who look at all sorts of predictors for the coming of spring.

I was up early on February 2 watching the activity out at Gobblers Knob where Punxsutawney Phil makes his annual forecast: six more weeks of winter or spring will be here soon. This year he did not see his shadow, so east coasters may expect an early spring. But what about us people out on the great prairie? How do we predict the end of winter and the coming of spring?

Well, now that the groundhog is out. The last, and only, official siting of a groundhog in Montana was in1895 out along the Idaho border, suggesting even that groundhog may have just been only passing through. Some Montanans, in the mountains, look to the Hoary Marmot, kind of a cousin to the groundhog. No major news coverage happens if there is a marmot renowned for being able to predict weather. In the eastern part of the state we have the yellow-bellied marmot. But can that burrowing varmint predict the weather? Predicting the coming of spring in our neck of the woods Last year I started the tradition of Chinook Chuck. I dressed up in a homemade costume hoping to spread a little sunshine in the midst of winter. This year my wife, Sherry, decided to dress up with me and we labelled her "Blaine County Betty." I went out early on Groundhog Day (Betty tends to sleep late) and looked for my shadow. This year as Chinook Chuck I saw my shadow! It's official, six more weeks of winter. Some wag at the Senior Center informed me, "It makes no difference what your homemade groundhog sees, there will always be at least six more weeks of winter in this part of the country." After living here for ten years, I think he may be right, but we can always hope.

So, I've started my first prediction to see if I can beat Punxsutawney Phil's record of predicting the coming of spring (he's at 39 percent since records started for his predictions in 1887). An upstart groundhog predictor, General Beauregard Lee, in Atlanta, started predicting in 1994 and he's boasting a 70 percent record of accuracy for his forecasting. But, I wondered, are there other things we can look at in nature for hints about when to expect some relief from the cold weather? Or, for that matter, where can we look for a prediction about an upcoming winter. Turns out there are many predictors, they're all around us.

Weather prognosticators are all around us

In our area where moisture pretty much determines how our economy will look, there are all sorts of natural rain and snowfall predictors. Here's one for winter snow: the date of the first snowflakes forecasts how many times it will snow in the coming winter. To wit, if the first snow is September 29, expect 29 more snowfalls. Or, working that idea from a different angle, the number of days before Christmas that the first snow falls will tell you how many snows to come-in the case of September 29, we could expect 88 snows for that winter. I think I like the first method better given the outcome.

Some people say you can tell how much moisture to expect in winter by the height of the dirt around ant hills in the preceding summer (we used to use that forecaster back where I grew up in southern Illinois). With faith in relying on insect's behavior, how about this one: "See how high the hornet's nest (is built), twill tell how high the snow will rest."

And there are always concerns about "How cold will this winter get?" Again, from my growing up years we looked to the banded woolly caterpillar (or, plain old "woolly worm"). We believed the longer the 'hairs' on the worm, the colder the coming winter would be. I found another interpretation for the woolly work I like better (how could one really tell how long those hairs are on a caterpillar) is to look at the caterpillar's brown band-the wider the band, the colder the coming winter.

I've written about insects' forecasting reliability, how about animals. Well, you'd be hard pressed to use this one around our area but it's said, "When the pigs carry sticks, the clouds will play tricks." (as a kid we interpreted that to mean when the pigs carried sticks they were building a nest to keep warm).

So, you've been waiting to learn what cattle can tell us about the weather. The jury is still out on this one. I read one place that when cattle lay down heavy rain can be expected and the cattle are creating a place they can keep dry. I read in the next citation that is a myth. Take your pick. It is agreed that cattle are sensitive to changing barometric pressures when weather changes, unfortunately they can't tell us about those coming changes.

That was about predicting weather, but here's a little trick I came across to use if you are wondering what the current temperature might be (this predates weather apps on your phone). Count the number of cricket chirps in a 15 second period, then add 40 and you will have the current temperature in Fahrenheit. Not sure how that would work for negative temperatures but crickets wouldn't be chirping in subzero weather, would they?

Chinook Chuck and Blaine County Betty (Steve and Sherry Edwards) made a surprise visit to the Chinook Senior Center last week on Groundhog Day. Chuck saw his shadow earlier in the day and is forecasting six more weeks of winter along the Hi-Line. Not really surprising news to most locals.

A final observation about weather. Will Rogers, referring to the variability of the weather in Oklahoma once said, "If you don't like the weather, wait fifteen minutes." I'd guess that many locals out here on the prairie feel the same about our weather. Most places we've lived folks were inclined to think they had the most unpredictable weather in the world. Maybe that's the nature of how humans look at weather, we're always inclined to think it's fickle.