No groundhog in his right mind would try to poke out of his burrow tomorrow – not with two feet of snow blocking the hole.

Regardless of how Candlemas Day dawns, whether clear or cloudy, Punxsutawney Phil will stay in his den if he has a lick of sense. And we’ll all know to expect another six weeks of winter.

It’s an old German weather prophecy, long before Phil made his Pennsylvania debut: If the groundhog doesn’t see his shadow on Feb. 2, there will be an early spring.

Unless, of course, one happens to live in Down East Maine where the snow is so deep on the golf course our two dogs resemble porpoises, diving in arcs, disappearing, resurfacing.

The only place to walk without sinking is along the furrows made by skis or the tracks left by snowmobiles. ‘Twill be awhile before winter ends in these parts and the roadside mailboxes aren’t plowed under with mounds of snow. It will take months of warm days to melt the ice fangs coating the ledges and to free the blocked streams.

February is the fickle month, no doubt about it, as double-faced as they come. Temperatures finally climb above freezing; the mornings are as pink as boiled shrimp. And the days have lengthened – suddenly, it seems – so that nightfall occurs at the proper time rather than in the middle of the afternoon.

Yet February can bring violent north winds and wet snow that splatters the windowpanes, as though egged by Halloween pranksters.

February is the month of forecasts, beginning with tomorrow’s fabled Groundhog Day, then to St. Dorothea (Feb. 6), when proverbs call for the most snow, and continuing on with Feb. 20 and Feb. 28, called in Sweden the “steel nights,” on account of their cutting severity.

“If on the 2nd of February, the goose finds it wet, then the sheep will have grass on March 25,” reads a proverb. Another: “When drops hang on the fence on the 2nd of February, icicles will hang there on the 25th of March.”

“When the cat in February lies in the sun, she will again creep behind the stove in March.” “Heavy north winds in February herald a fruitful year.”

Two old proverbs about February especially bear repeating as much as we don’t want to hear them: “Of all the months of the year, curse a fair February.”

And, this one to ponder: “February makes a bridge and March breaks it.”