Tomorrow is just today re-lived for Punxsutawney Phil.
It is odd to me that he is so very human, hunkered
low against the cold winds of winter's wrath until
finally, in celebration of Imbolc he rises to survey his vast
lands, a keen eye to the ground to scout out this years'
competition, even if it is only his shadow.

Phil's home in the burrow on Gobbler's **** is the
family sanctuary; there is a joke there but it is beyond
me, God.  Just please keep us warm and brave, looking
to the sky instead of the ground, our shadows to our
backs where they will always belong.