Buffalo Rock Requiem

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.

I find a descent trail and work my way down the rugged terrain. Before me looms Buffalo Rock. The late afternoon light spills across its broken face and engages the spirit of the rock. The promontory and weathered rubble below transform into a rough hewn image of an American Bison. The imposing icon of the Great Plains struggles to rise from its knees. Blood soaked earth spreads from its once majestic stature. He is the last of his wild bunch. A Comanche warrior leans at its side and chants a requiem lamenting the beast’s less than dignified demise at the hands of unscrupulous buffalo hunters.

© Ilija Lukić 2012

Buffalo Rock

Llano Breaks

Comanche Requiem

Yucca Tribe

Caprock Lookout

Always Close The Gate

Endless Horizon

Furrows Bereft Of Rain