Did the groundhog see his shadow?

My first winter here in State College was a bit deceiving.  This winter has been a lot colder with lots of small snow flurries that didn't last long enough to enjoy, but long enough to make it hard to do things like ride a bike outdoors.   Add to that the fact that I worked a lot of days where it was dark when I went to work and dark by the time I left, and I have been feeling cold and cooped up for far too long.  To be clear, I didn't always work super late-- in the dead of the winter it gets dark here as early as 4:45 in the afternoon, so just working a normal day meant going home in the dark.

In all honesty, despite my frequent grumblings about being cold and my knack for falling asleep under 10 layers of clothing and blankets, this winter in State College has definitely encouraged me to have a greater appreciation for the colder months.  And for those of you that know my true feelings on winter know that is a bold statement.  For one, I got to see rural and forested parts of Pennsylvania covered in fresh, beautiful snow like this:

I also took a ski lesson and spent a few clear, sunny days out at the local ski area learning to maneuver my way down some of Central PA's larger hills (people here make fun of me for calling them mountains). Here is where I should probably qualify my definition of "skiing" and "maneuvering."  I am a beginner.  If there was a word for the level that you are before you're a beginner, that would actually be a more appropriate term.  So for me this season, "skiing" actually meant making a bunch of clumsy, exaggerated zig-zags down a bunny slope trying not to get run over by the three-year-old pro's.  Notice I said get run over, not run over.  On my second visit, I was feeling confident on the beginner hill and was talked into taking the lift up to the top of the slopes to try the trail run, which is the least steep of the options.  As soon as I got to the top and saw the beautiful view of Happy Valley from several hundred feet in the air.... I panicked. After several falls, and maybe a frustrated toss of a ski pole, I made it to the bottom.  My "maneuver" to the bottom was neither a technique that could be considered extreme nor age-appropriate.  Needless to say, I was pretty sore for several days after. The upside is... I am looking forward to doing it again.  Just hopefully on two skis next time.

So, anyways.  After a few quick getaways to see my friend Jaclyn in Austin, TX where the weather is perpetually beautiful, and a rather warm weekend a few days ago which I spent outdoors on my bike, I'm definitely starting to get spring fever.   After seeing these crocuses blooming on a hillside and spending 35 miles riding in the sun (and a rather strong wind), riding the bus to work in the snow again today was a major mood-killer.

Which leaves me with one question... what actually happened in Punxatawney on February 2?