Meteorologists warned residents from Sebastian Inlet in Central Florida to Surf City, N.C., that they faced “a danger of life-threatening inundation from rising water.”

New York Times

Seriously, if you’re facing “a danger of life-threatening inundation,” having it be from rising water is really a best-case scenario. Imagine it being rising mercury. Or rising methanol. Or rising lava.

I mean, really—even it were puppies, that’s not going to make “a danger of life-threatening inundation” any better.

Weather is a local phenomenon. Oh, weather systems can cover half a continent, but the weather on the north edge of a huge weather system will be entirely different from the weather at the south edge. And any particular spot on the planet sees a unique sequence of weather systems, somewhat different from those seen by other nearby spots, and entirely different from those seen by more distant spots.

This is why I’ve always been completely baffled by celebrity groundhogs.

It makes no more sense to pay attention to the shadows of distant groundhogs than it makes to pay attention to the forecasts of distant meteorologists. In fact, it makes much less sense—a distant meteorologist has the skills and technology to produce a useful forecast for your local area. But I have no more interest in what some celebrity groundhog sees when he emerges from his burrow than I have in the local weather report for Hong Kong or Timbuktu.

What matters is what your local groundhog sees when he emerges from his burrow this morning! Pay no attention to the shadows of distant groundhogs, whatever their celebrity status!

Hereabouts, it’s rather foggy, assuring us of an early spring.