The vast tablelands of the Llano Estacado inspire wonder. They humble my spirit and cultivate introspection. The horizons are endless. Every rise I get the better of gets me closer to the northern Llano Escarpment. In an unexpected way the fusion of earth and sky breaks apart. I stand at the the caprock precipice where the Llano Estacado tumbles into the Canadian River Plain. Open cattle range and mile upon mile of monotonous agricultural furrows give up the ghost to craggy windblown cliffs, canyons carved by raging thunderstorm runoff, piñon and juniper habitat, and a myriad of wildlife.
|Always Close The Gate|
|Furrows Bereft Of Rain|