Surprise! Look who’s back.

Another Groundhog Day has come and gone and the weather couldn’t care less.

Still, the idea that a varmint like that groundhog can forecast the weather continues to pop up one year after another.

The networks had a reporter waiting impatiently at the entrance to Punxsutawney Phil’s home, a warm little burrow in western Pennsylvania. The nation’s press felt obligated to report whether this large rodent, officially a Marmota monax, waddled out of its hole with an eagerly anticipated meteorological prognostication.

According to the old story, if Phil saw his shadow, look out! That means another six more weeks of winter. If it’s cloudy enough and no shadow shows, it means an early spring. How early? Phil ain’t talkin’ — never has.

If nothing else, the Groundhog Day stories have always brought a smile when we need it most. With cold temperatures and at least another month or two before a worm-hunting robin flies in or a bud opens on a tree, it’s good to have hope and to believe that spring is just around the corner.

For every skeptic who calls Phil a fraud who has no sense and declares the whole thing a bunch of idiotic foolishness, there are likely hundreds who are true believers. Believers like Merritt Bellinger from Jacksonville.

“The groundhog and I have been running together for 70 years,” he told a reporter in 1903, “and I am inclined to believe there is considerable truth in the old superstition.”

Most believers are probably children who ignore any weather bureau pronouncement that say the whole thing is just a bunch of “hooey.” For the kids, just in case any youngster is reading this, we say — good for you!

Yes, Virginia, there is a groundhog, as sure as there are fairies and Walt Disney DVDs. Just think how dreary our world would be if there were no groundhogs. Not believe in the groundhog? You might as well not believe in shadows. Did you ever catch a shadow? Of course not. But that doesn’t prove they don’t exist.

No groundhog? Thankfully he lives and will live forever.

Still, there’s the question of whether a subterranean resident of Pennsylvania can actually be smart enough to predict our seasons in Southern Oregon. Over the years, results in Jackson County have been mixed.

In 1944, Groundhog Day opened like a typical spring day with the sun barely shining through the raindrops and no one able to find a groundhog. Did he see his shadow, or did he just hang out in his dusty den?

The 1962 version had a similar uncertainty, but was much more decisive in the predicted outcome.

Overall, the weather had been dismal, overcast with a lot of rain, and the search continued to find a groundhog.

“Since there aren’t any known groundhogs in this area,” said the local reporter, “we don’t have the authentic word on whether where will be six more weeks of winter or not. But if a groundhog HAD been around, he surely had seen his shadow.”

In 1950, if there actually was a local groundhog, the furry animal awoke and poked its head through at least 2 inches of snow in 7-degree air. The full moon was fading in the west as the sun was just rising over the edge of Roxy Ann. The groundhog stood up and wriggled the frost off his whiskers.

He looked to his left and saw a faint moon shadow. Then he looked to his right into a strong shadow cast by the sun. The groundhog snorted and dove back into his burrow.

Remembering a shadow meant six more weeks of winter, the groundhog had to be confused. What did two shadows mean?

I missed what that rascal Phil predicted from his burrow, but judging by our recent cold spell, things aren’t looking so good.