On February 2, I woke my kids up early so we would have time before school to watch a livestream clip of a groundhog named Phil emerge from his burrow at Gobbler’s Knob. Not because I believe in “whistle-pig meteorology,” but because my kids think it’s fascinating—and I’m a pushover for my kids.

We watched as men in top hats ceremoniously knocked on Phil’s door, then held him up like the Lion King’s Simba to a cheering crowd. They unfurled an official-looking scroll and declared—confidently and poetically—that we were in for six more weeks of winter.

At the time, it was about 15 degrees in Minot, and we were coming off several days of subzero wind chills. Pretty standard February fare in North Dakota. It wasn’t hard to imagine six more weeks of winter. In fact, I remember joking later that only six more weeks of winter would actually be a pleasant surprise around here.
That joke did not age well.

Just a few days later, North Dakota experienced a jarring temperature swing. We climbed into the 30s. Then the 40s. Then, to 50 degrees and beyond. The kind of weather that ushered in spontaneous (if sloshy) trips to the park, hours of outdoor play, and pleasant conditions for finally removing the last remaining bits of outdoor Christmas décor.

Thinking back to Groundhog Day, I wasn’t doubting Phil. I was wondering not if six more weeks of winter were coming—but when they would start.

I shared a few warm-weather observations on Hey Minot (a social media page dedicated to the good things in North Dakota) and was met with commentary from across the country. I noted what parents wore to school pick-up the first day it hit 37 degrees after a stretch of -22. Then I shared the joy of washing my car in the driveway when it was 52 degrees.

The internet responded swiftly.

“Your North Dakota weather is currently drunk in my North Carolina backyard.”

“I’m in Pennsylvania—please come get your weather and take it home.”

“How is North Dakota in the 50s while Wisconsin hasn’t been above freezing in weeks?”

“I’m in New York. It’s miserable. I think your weather is lost.”

Last month, when I mentioned how warm 46 degrees felt in January, commenters assured me that kind of weather never happens and was highly unusual. In February, commenters were quick to note that warm spells like this are actually quite common.

That’s social media for you. Everyone is an expert, and someone is always wrong.

So I got curious. How unusual is this weather, really?

I’m no meteorologist—or weather-predicting rodent—but I can use the internet. I looked at historical February weather data for Minot. What I found was both validating and deeply unhelpful. Over the last five years, Minot has had only five days reach 50 degrees or higher, and two of those happened this year. Several years never hit 50 at all. But every year did have days in the 40s.

In other words, we’re all right.

February in North Dakota is brutally cold, but it can also be shockingly pleasant. Highs range anywhere from -14 to 55 depending on the year—or even the day. January is, on average, our coldest month. And a typical year in North Dakota brings around 50 days with subzero ambient temperatures.

To put it scientifically: you really never can tell.

Maybe that’s why it’s so hard to remember winters accurately. Was it harsh? Mild? Somewhere in between? When temperatures swing from 50 to -20 and back again, averages get skewed and our bodies are left wondering what just happened. Is it warm enough for a T-shirt? Should I still wear a coat when it’s 30 degrees, even though it 50 degrees warmer than yesterday?

In the end, winter memory is as much about perspective as it is about temperature. We tend to remember the extremes—the bitter cold or the glorious thaw—while the in-between gets blurred. And maybe that’s not a bad thing. Living through the cold, the warmth, and the wildly unpredictable swings gives us something to laugh about later, something to commiserate over, and something to compare every future winter to.

One thing is certain: when winter does return for its reckoning—and it will—I’ll be thinking of the groundhog. Phil never said when those six weeks of winter would start. Just that they were coming.

And in North Dakota, that feels about right.

For more stories and North Dakota perspective, join me at amyallender.com or @heyminot on Instagram, Facebook, and TikTok.