The end to human hibernation

They say you should never start a story with the weather. Weather is something people talk about when they have nothing else to say. But sometimes the weather is the story. Like a hurricane. Or a tsunami. Or, if you live north of the 49th parallel, then the first warm day of the year.

That is the day when humans awake from hibernation.

It's a different kind of hibernation than you might think, though there are certainly times when humans hole up in their cozy homes and sleep the time away. More often than not, during the winter months, you'll find these humans hustling from one shelter to the next -- their homes, their offices, their local hockey arenas. Always running; never breathing.

But then, one day, the sun comes out and warms the air. The rabbits reappear, nibbling on the tender shoots of grass. Flowers quietly poke their heads out of the soil, reaching for the light and warmth. And people of all ages stop what they are doing and slowly, cautiously step outside.

They joyfully greet neighbours whom they haven't seen in months, despite being only feet away. They light barbecues and crack cold drinks and sit on their patios, basking in the summer sun. The children do cartwheels on the grass and forget that they were bored.

They set to work cleaning up their yards, raking and mowing and digging in the dirt. But they do so at a leisurely pace. Because unlike in the cold, when they rush from place to place, seemingly trying to escape where they are ...

In the sun is where they want to be.

In the sun, they breathe.