Heading back to our Colorado farm, I left Columbia in a balmy mist, with an early morning temperature of 55 (F), knowing that a potent spring storm lay in my path. Between Columbia and Kansas City, the massive storm produced several bands of torrential rain, slowing my progress substantially. Once in Kansas, the rain stopped but low, gray clouds did little to brighten the landscape; in fact, a strong northwest wind (I was clearly on the backside of the storm) raked the eastern third of the State, dropping wind chills into the thirties.
Further west, where spring has barely risen from the soil, the clouds diminished and the bright blue sky, dry, cool air and golden fields made it look and feel more like October than April. The fourth season arrived in easternmost Colorado where only scattered, puffy clouds dotted the sky and where the afternoon temperature was pushing seventy. Despite the mild conditions, residual pockets of snow appeared near Genoa (along the High Plains escarpment) and increased significantly as I crossed the Palmer Divide, north of Limon.
Approaching Denver, the Front Range foothills stood out as a wall of white after the storm's recent gift of heavy, wet snow. Denver's blanket was now reduced to slushy piles at the edge of parking lots and our Littleton farm was clear except for shallow drifts below conifers and along fence lines. An eleven hour drive had covered 800 miles, climbed 4600 feet and taken me through four seasons.
