TULIA, Texas – There was a time, not so long ago, when the Texas Panhandle sang a different song.
“You’d drive the backroads at night, windows cracked, and you could hear the hum of gas-powered irrigation engines all around you,” said Norman Burge, a landowner in Floyd County. “Some louder than others, but always there. It was the music of the plains.”
“This land won’t fix itself,” he said. “And it won’t wait around for us to get it right. You have to be willing to do your part.”
That steady rhythm of water being pulled from the Ogallala Aquifer once fueled the region’s agricultural boom. But over the years, the music quieted — and with it came a sobering realization.
“The engines went silent because the water started disappearing,” Burge said. “And it hit me — we can’t keep treating this resource like it’s endless.”
That awareness led Burge to take action. As one of the earliest participants in the Texas Playa Conservation Initiative, he restored playas on two separate properties — 160 acres in Floyd County, Texas, and 480 acres in Curry County, New Mexico.
Found at the lowest point of a watershed, playas are round, shallow basins lined with clay soil that collect and hold rainfall and runoff, forming temporary wetlands. These natural recharge basins play a vital role in replenishing groundwater and supporting wildlife.
“I didn’t know much about playas at first,” he admitted. “They looked like leaky bowls to me. But once I understood their role in recharging the aquifer, it just made sense to restore them.”
Though he’s an absentee landowner and the land has been in the USDA Conservation Reserve Program (CRP) since the late ’80s, the decision to restore was never about short-term gains.
“This land won’t fix itself,” he said. “And it won’t wait around for us to get it right. You have to be willing to do your part.”
Burge hopes his work will not only contribute to aquifer recharge but also spark a change in mindset among landowners. He’s seen the shift firsthand — from years of unchecked water use to growing concern about long-term supply.
“A neighbor of mine used to talk about how they wasted more water in a day back in the ’40s than we have access to now,” Burge said. “It’s a different world. And we have to act like it.”
His restoration efforts have also become a quiet conversation starter in the community.
“People drive by and say, ‘Hey, what happened to that old pit out there?’” he said. “They may not say much at first, but it plants a seed. And that’s how change begins.”
Looking ahead, Burge hopes that seed continues to grow — especially among younger landowners inheriting family ground in a drier, more uncertain climate.
“If I could offer one piece of advice,” he said, “it’s to think about the legacy you’re leaving. What do you want your land to look like in 50 years? Because if you don’t act now, that decision might not be yours to make.”