The incredible botanical tapestry that blankets the shortgrass prairie and arid lands of the Llano Estacado Plateau in September always leaves me in awe. It’s age-old symphony of warm hues and exotic aromas of sage and earth urges senses to escape the daily grind and submit heart and soul to ethereal realms of the universe.
Golden crescendos of broom snakeweed embrace withered stalks of yucca campaniles. Their quiet chatter filled with nostalgic whispers of flowered spring heydays and summer monsoons buoys the afternoon hush. Even the rhythmic squeaking and clanking of sails on scattered stock tank windmills, driven by the endless plainsong of prairie winds, seems to add a measure of tranquility.
Once again, the autumnal spoke on the wheel of life marks the passage of time on the Staked Plains of New Mexico. For time immemorial the encouraging extravaganza of high plains flora—its last hurrah of summer splendor—prepares the tablelands and its denizens for winter slumber amidst unfailing covenants and high hopes for a springtide resurrection of life.
© Ilija Lukić 2026
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