Each season lasted only a few months, with summer hot and steamy and fall characterized by cool nights and warm, colorful days. Winter was usually cold and snowy, and a steady south wind in late March ushered in spring and its many blossoms. One of the barometers that could signal spring's wakeup was Groundhog Day. Groundhog Day is a sacred time for people from snowbound cultures. The outcome of the day will provide the subliminal message for the ensuing weeks - either six more weeks of winter or an early spring.
Great ceremony surrounds the event.
The town of Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania, is descended upon by hordes of media set to cover the event. Men dressed in top hats and coats with long tails announce, usually in the wee hours of the morning, the findings to the crowd. However, to folks in the Lowcountry, Groundhog Day generally occurs without much circumstance. The reasons I suppose are that most people of the coast don't have an affinity to groundhogs because sightings of the furry, underground excavator are as rare as seeing the Lizardman, and because the area is blessed with mild winters. But from the water and the resulting swamps, we also acquire our ambassador of spring, the American alligator.