Another voice.

It's almost that time of year; in only a few short months we will be all swept up once again in the electricity, the surge that is the Hamptons in the summer. The build-up has begun, when the possibility of snow is no longer, daylight is winning the time war and the rental market is buzzing. From precisely this time of year, we all rev up and crawl out of "the cave," as I like to call it.

A friend once told me, "you have to love the cave, embrace the cave."

Filling every day and every night with as much as possible both socially and professionally is something that happens naturally for most out here in the summer. Whether invited to a home for dinner or a clam bake on the beach, hosting a party, attending a charitable event or an art opening, every night is booked. If not working during the day, then laying on the beach, kayaking, clamming, or enjoying a BBC at Cyrils on the way back from hiking in Montauk. We stop at farm stands along the road to inhale fragrant wildflowers buzzing with bumblebees, and select ripe red tomatoes and corn on the cob for impromptu dinner parties on our patios.

In the winter, however, that buzz of summer is reduced to a whisper. Our corn comes out from the freezer section, and our flowers are wrapped in heavy plastic. We wake up and are greeted by fuzzy darkness, touch our feet to the chilly floor and push through the day. There is only the whistling wind to drown out the sound of our steps, click click clicking down our Main Streets, hurrying through our daily routines with our collars pulled up over our chins. With the early twilight, we can retreat back home to the warmth of our down comforters and the glow of our televisions or a good book. We embrace the cave; we find comfort in our cocoons of coats and cups of steaming tea.

Then, that whisper of winter begins to build momentum; by March we can faintly hear it singing the song of spring, and before we know it we are swept away again in the surge that is summer. We come out of our caves and briefly squint at the sun before throwing ourselves back into the current that many of us have awaited for months. Invitations to cocktail parties and galas start collecting in our mailboxes and suddenly, the Hamptons have come back to life.