Fear casts long shadows
Be bold, step into life’s light—
Why not seize the day?
© Ilija Lukić 2026
Vignettes on the Spiral of Life
Fear casts long shadows
Be bold, step into life’s light—
Why not seize the day?
© Ilija Lukić 2026
At 4,600 feet of elevation, the northern boundary of Llano Estacado tablelands is a rugged escarpment dotted with piñon pines and junipers. In some places caprock crowns steep cliff faces. In others alluvial fans ease into the majestic sprawl of the Canadian River basin sweeping into boundless beauty of the open horizon.
At the break-over edge of the escarpment, I pause my day trip to San Jon, New Mexico on a roadside overlook at Harguess Hollow Park—minutes north of Grady. My imagination takes flight and I purposely give mind’s eye free rein to roam the river plain during the time-shrouded days of yore.
Right away I acknowledge the history of the arid grasslands. They are dynamic, ancestral territories of Comanches, Apaches and Kiowa tribes. But, the sublime beauty and allure of faraway vistas beyond the veil of the known also fires imaginations of 17th century Spanish explorers in search of treasure. Later European settlers and explorers use the river corridor as an east-west passage to reach Santa Fe NM and California.
The inhospitable, semi-arid plain—dominated by blue grama, buffalograss, galleta, sideoats grama and little bluestem—also challenges travelers with thorny indigenous flora. Distinct personal experiences with bayonette-like yucca leaves, barbed cholla spines and horse-crippling prickly-pear cactus spikes allow me to relate to their physical torment.
On closer reflection, I find that adversity and struggles on the trail often sow seeds of contentment. Like the serenity of a high plains sunrise with the aroma of sage on the first breath of daybreak...or putting a grueling day to rest on a wisp of honey mesquite smoke gently curling through chill evening air, whispering promises of a delicious campfire meal.
© Ilija Lukić 2026
Established in 1855, Ft Stanton is one of the most intact 19th-century military forts in the American West. It’s located in the outlaw Billy the Kid’s old neck of the woods near Lincoln, New Mexico. Nestled in a national forest, it’s been a base of operations in conflicts with Mescalero Apaches, saw action during the Civil War, as well as the Lincoln County Wars. In 1899 President McKinley repurposed the fort into one of the first federal tuberculosis sanatoriums. Then, during WWII the facilities served as a detention center for German and Japanese Americans.
The Spanish mission-style, Catholic chapel once stood near the post hospital wing before a stone-by-stone relocation to its present area in the 1940s. Throughout the years humble faithful, but also skeptics with spirits worn thin and hearts frayed by life’s tribulations, have found divine solace and a quiet harbor of comfort within the sanctuary's walls.
© Ilija Lukić 2026
Field of broom snakeweed sets broad plain aglow,
While weathered yucca spires reminisce
Cherished springtide on said flowered plateau—
High hopes reign far and wide, not hit or miss.
© Ilija Lukić 2026
Two friends and I are on an afternoon ride through waist-high shortgrass prairie of Rockin’ P Ranch open range near Broadview, New Mexico. The gentle, smooth and rhythmic pace of a relaxed flat-footed walk by my stallion named Trouble allows me to drift into reverie about the wonders of vast Llano Estacado grasslands. Afterwards, I wax poetic.
My spirit soars when eye to eye
With Tasiwóo on Staked Plain;
Where red-tailed hawks rule azure sky
And spadefoots trumpet summer rain.
Where pronghorn flash rumps on the fly
And cougars prowl escarpment chain;
Where sandhill cranes lift hearts on high
And prairie dogs build their domain.
Where milkweed hosts monarch fly-by
And cholla adds flair to terrain;
Where lark song thrills, moods fortify
And swallows are life's weathervane.
Where horned toads squirt blood from their eye
And stink bugs spray pungent refrain;
Where coon-tail buzz stops heart well-nigh
And swift fox threads cactus chicane.
Where sunset skies God glorify,
And monsoon rains can be insane;
Where Blue Northers cause hue and cry
And lazy Moon croons gentle strain.
Where dry-land crops barely scrape by
And sand dunes impede life’s fast lane;
Where coyotes play in sage waist-high
And nature’s marvels give heart free rein.
Where starlit skies draw eyes sky high
And soul surrenders, it’s germane;
Reverence brims storehouse of mind’s eye—
Life on the plain is not mundane.
© Ilija Lukić 2026
Thanks to an entrenched La Niña weather pattern—spawned by cooling of Pacific Ocean waters along the western coast of South America and equator—Eastern New Mexico currently suffers one of the driest springs in 132 years.
Cloud-free skies limit legendary Llano Estacado eventide blazes. But, occasional and thus especially impactful sunsets help ease drought effects on moods of the high plains populace.
Said sporadic nightfall spectacles paint skies over dwindling water holes on the American bison rangelands of the 3,200-acre Ned Houk Park—six miles north of Clovis, New Mexico. This is buffalo country. From dawn till dusk park visitors can enjoy close encounters with a small herd of the iconic beasts—managed by rangers in partnership with the city’s Hillcrest Park Zoo.
© Ilija Lukić 2026
Time always takes a toll on hopes and dreams,
Relentless tides of years pound hearts and souls;
Yet, fortune thrives on the edge of extremes,
Where life builds grit and resolve towards goals.
Nature provides the palette,
Light is the medium,
Hearts are the canvas…
For the poetry of light.
© Ilija Lukić 2026
The physical world brims with colors, textures and endless supplies of subjects for those inclined to capture sublime, timeless fragments of life. Some create photos, others put paint brush to canvas, a handful weave symphonic masterpieces and a few channel said moments into poetry. For most of us who are more casual observers, moments of elation become soul-stirring, singular memories destined for innermost treasure troves that shape our essence.
During the golden hour of a Llano Estacado morning, the quality of light shapes, reveals and brings natural elements to life. It defines our visual experience—how we perceive colors and depth of field, for example. But the interplay of light with the natural world also triggers emotions, It gives rise to feelings and sets moods. The latter influences how we respond to events and interact with people.
A late afternoon sojourn across seas of Llano Estacado grasslands and scattered islands of agriculture circles near Broadview, New Mexico tugs at heartstrings. However, the masterful cultivation of inhospitable high plains tablelands is a double-edged sword. Irrigated crop circles threaten the demise of native grasslands.
Just before sundown the world slips into a palpable silence as the sun takes final bows and settles into the infinity of the western expanse. Lingering light floods the short-grass prairie with amber hues and fond farewell kisses.
Determined to match the drama in western skies, first whispers of night veil the eastern edge of the world and gently buoy dying embers of daylight—a phenomenon known as Rayleigh scattering. A rising Moon, eager for his ordained traverse of a boundless and starlit firmament, melts into said celestial eventide medley. I pause in awesome wonder and drink deeply from the cup of life.
© Ilija Lukić 2026
Minds play games with truth
Wisdom thrives in silent vaults
Time lays bare veiled truth
© Ilija Lukić 2026
The Sandhills on the New Mexico-Texas border near Muleshoe formed some 12,000 years ago, when wind-blown river deposits from the Portales Valley to the west formed sand sheets, dunes and rolling hills. Over time grasses, cacti, mesquite, shin-oak and sage stabilized the delicate ecosystem. The rough-hewn land refuses the plow and sand makes irrigation impossible.
But, in its wild state the prairie easily sustains light cattle grazing and echoes with sounds of yesteryear, as family ranchers and cowboys continue to honor historical practices of tending to the land while eking out a livelihood. My days in the saddle during round-ups, chasing steers across ridge lines and through draws, remain a memorable lifetime of adventures packed into ten years.
(Excerpt from my cowboy poetry penned years ago follows)
Rain rarely falls, but wind does blow.
Dust time and again shrouds azure skies.
Cowboys brave harsh wilds of New Mexico,
Where cattle bawl and the Red-tailed Hawk flies.
Blue skies hold sway, but when Blue Northers blow
They unleash raw squalls from angry skies.
Said High Plains drama in New Mexico
Feeds cowboy-life lore and tall tales likewise.
© Ilija Lukić 2026
At 4,500 feet of elevation the arid tablelands of the Llano Estacado Plateau stretch across some 40,000 square miles of Eastern New Mexico and Panhandle of Texas. Large cattle ranches and irrigation agriculture defy the raw climate and thrive.
Long gone are the indigenous Great Plains horse cultures that lived in harmony with the land. But, sprawling stretches of primal prairie survive. After embracing spring rains the Earth once again laughs in countless arrays of flowers—a stunning awakening on the wheel of life.
© Ilija Lukić 2026
It’s been eleven years since I stopped chasing endless Llano Estacado horizons and kicking up prairie dust in rollicking range herding adventures. I swapped carefree saddle days and open range for more leisurely meanders and rumination about life in verdant Carolina woodlands.
I hung up my spurs and cowboy lid—a wide-brimmed, Cattleman-creased straw hat—yet, mind’s eye often drifts into nostalgic reverie about the short-grass prairie, shin-oak and sage-covered Sandhills on the eastern reaches of New Mexico’s high plains. A spirited American Paint named Trouble was a favored mount…even in my early “greenhorn” days.
(An excerpt from a poem I penned years ago)
Roll out of bed, stumble, it’s o’dark thirty;
Find gloves, don’t forget hat hung on rack;
Grab spurs, slide into boots worn and dirty;
Make tracks in old pickup, dogs in the back.
Saddle up Trouble at first blush of dawn.
The stallion joins Melon Head a red mule
And two weathered cowpokes ‘bout to have fun
With a wide-eyed greenhorn…flat-out old-school.
© Ilija Lukić 2026
Spring stirs in Earth realms
Bright hues sow seeds of summer
Renewed joy brims heart
© Ilija Lukić 2026
Usually located near open water and hunting grounds, an eyrie is a majestic stronghold as well as a lofty cradle of intertwined twigs lined with bark, sod and grasses. Osprey tend to return to the same nest year after year. They repair nests as needed, often resulting in massive feet-deep structures.
Although the sleek raptors seem accustomed to people and recreational activities at Jordan Lake, they are leery of human intrusion. It’s breeding season, a time they are particularly cautious and sensitive to threats near their nests.
© Ilija Lukić 2026
Nature unknots mind filled with confusion,
Her purposeful flourish and verve confirm
Free will is real, yet hints of illusion,
Unchosen choices, both short and long term.
© Ilija Lukić 2026