Much has been written over the years about the post-holiday, winter blues; that annual letdown that follows fast on "the most wonderful time of the year."

Unless you are a hermit or blessedly stranded on a desert island for the duration, it's hard to avoid the triggers which have been so solidly cast into our modern society.

We build the momentum of holiday fervor starting early, before aspen leaves have even begun turning gold. While the last barbeque of summer cools on a late Labor Day evening, stores are pulling picnic supplies and pool toys and stocking shelves with bags of miniature Snickers bars and tiny packs of Twizzlers in preparation (2 months?!) for Halloween.

Before the first goblin appears at your doorstep, however, the shelves are cleared again and filled-oh so briefly-with autumn wreathes and turkey pans. Meanwhile, at the Mall, the garlands are already rising, the lights twinkling and little villages erected in anticipation of the magical day when Santa will arrive to hold crying babies and hear the wishes of their older siblings.

While you've been switching from shorts to slacks and booking travel plans, department stores were laying in the holiday inventories, shipping Christmas catalogs and hiring seasonal help. Then, just as we settle in for our long tryptophan infused, post-turkey/football/one-last-slice-of-pumpkin-pie nap, we're hit full force by the greatest marketing creation of all--Black Friday; the day retailers hang all their hopes of solvency on, and the day shoppers give up all of theirs.

From this point on, until the last exhausted moment of Christmas day, we are relentlessly bombarded with good cheer and early bird specials. It takes willpower to resist being swept up in the fervor that is the Christmas season in America. Not that I don't love it, too-who but a Grinch wouldn't?

Despite the exhaustion of shopping, parties and out-of-town company, there is more than the average good will toward men to go around, liberally iced with colorful sprinkles, "green" LED lights and caroling Muzak. No wonder we don't see it coming.

Despite the last hurrah of New Year's, reality begins it's inevitable creep back into our lives with morning shows and news stories that remind us we've put too much on our credit cards, gained too much weight and, by the way, our taxes soon will be due. Ho, ho, ho!

Add in packing up the decorations, throwing out the tree and the endless lists designed to nostalgically recap our year, from best and worst of everything to the somber reading of notable deaths. It is the final nail in our annual full circle from sparkling holiday cheer to gloomy post-New Year's blues. In other words, we've done this to ourselves.

In centuries past a holiday was less a season and more of a day. A few extra pounds from summer's bounty meant extra warmth and energy through winter. Afghans were knit, babies conceived and oral histories passed on by firelight.

Okay, so it's not like I want to return to the middle ages. I love the lights and carols, presents and goodies just like everyone else. I'm a total sucker for the holiday season. But it's just part of the rest of the year.

So now it's January and the sky is still blue, the sun still shines (it's Colorado, after all!) and, while the promise of spring is a few months away, I can always plop a bouquet of flowers into a vase on my kitchen counter to remind me that the winter blues are only what you let yourself make of them.