We must flow with the river instead of trying to change it, for example.

Obviously, the Master never had to clear his driveway of snow in order to get to get the kids to school. Or have to navigate the four-foot drifts of snow across the road in order to get home. Nor did his cart ever get bogged down in Estancia Valley mud.

I'm not saying his philosophy doesn't have it's bright side, but I think I speak for a lot of us out here when I say, "Enough with the snow already!"

Of course, as I write this, the weather has actually been decent for the past couple of days. The latest snow on Monday has melted away and the ground is starting to get that cracked look as the drying clay dirt contracts. But the way this winter is going, I'm not optimistic the sunshine will hold out. And, as all New Mexicans know, winter isn't over until Easter, which is April 3; thankfully early this year.

Way back in November when we first got snow, everyone was happy.

"We need the moisture," you would hear. "It makes everything green in the spring."

By the middle of December, we were still tolerant of the snow. Christmas was coming and who doesn't want a white Christmas?

Then January, and week after week and storm after storm we put up with it, our smiles slowly turning into grimaces. February, more of the same and the talk about needing the moisture gave way to talk about the "(expletive) snow."

We have it easy compared to other places in the country, which have been hit hard and frequently this winter. And to an extent, I won't argue that. I'm certainly glad I don't live in New England. But we here in the Southwest have to deal with something we aren't equipped to deal with — a lack of sunshine.

We here in New Mexico suffer bad with seasonal affective disorder, otherwise known as the winter blues. Our normally happy faces are replaced with scowls when the sun disappears for any time longer than two days. That's why we live here.

There are things we can do, I read, to get over the effects of seasonal affective disorder, such as light therapy, where you sit in a light box and high-powered lamps are aimed at you. (I think I'm finally beginning to understand why tanning booths are so popular.)

Modern psychiatry didn't identify season affective disorder until 1984, which was about 1,400 years after the Scandinavians discovered it. I also found that Icelanders are less likely to get the disorder than others, which has led researchers to believe that the large amount of fish in the Icelander diet is responsible for their apparent immunity to the winter blues; as if eating fish all the time wouldn't be a bit depressing.

Modern treatments include medication and therapy, but the only cure, really, is a change in the weather.

And thankfully, the weather changed. People have been nicer the past couple of days and everyone seems to be relieved that the snow has stopped. The work of repairing roads and driveways is getting underway, which I guess could set off an economic boom for the mountains and valley.

Of course, all the birds chirping and beautiful sunshine could lead to another seasonal disorder -- spring fever.

Now there is a part of nature I can go along with.

Contact McClannahan at 823-7102 or online at This e-mail address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it .