Somewhere near Star Valley, the sun was setting after a long, beautiful day in the wild spent with friends. The last rays of light cast a beautiful warm glow on the native grasses and wildflowers that surrounded us. It is said that good art can be measured but how it makes you feel, and time with good friends will always leave you feeling better than when you arrived.

Sego Lilies, False Garlic and Lemmon’s Butterweed, Mazatzal Mountains, AZ

4-14-23  4:30pm

40 X 30 oil on canvas

Some days are near perfect. Warm sun, cool air, a hike to a waterfall, feet in the creek and flowers literally everywhere. This day lives on in my memory, and on the canvas, and for that I am grateful.

“The land has been made to blossom as the rose; like an oasis in the desert . . . nodding plumes of beauty fill the air with sweet perfume,” wrote the editor of the Pinedale Roundup in 1912. He was reporting on the very first Clark’s Flower Day, a celebration of springtime hosted by Bert and Anna May Clark. The Clarks established a Ranch on Duck Creek in Cora, Wyoming in 1902, later to be known as the CL Bar Ranch.

For nineteen years, the Clarks would invite the community to come spend the day on their ranch among the expansive gardens. Guests would enjoy picnicking, picking pails of strawberries, and eating ice cream. Menfolk looked at the tractors, canoes, and sailboats.

Historian Judi Myers writes, “The entrance to the ranch house was marked with rustic gates of curious design and craftsmanship. The pole fence was entwined with elk antlers. A large lawn with pebble lined paths, abundant foliage and a sundial greeted visitors to the annual Flower Days. In 1914 eighty people attended. By 1920 over 200 people came from as far away as Rock Springs, Lander and Kemmerer.”

Gone are the extensive gardens, but the wild things still grow on this land. Bison have replaced sheep, but the skies and hospitality of this land remains.

30 in. x 60 in., 2026

15,200

Inspired by a morning hike up Cedar Creek near Start Valley, Wyoming.

Seasons Change
Aster and Leaf, Cedar Creek, Star Valley, WY
9-12-22 12:13 PM
Oil on Canvas 20 in. x 20in. 2024
$3,900

On this day, the leaves were turning and the cool temperatures of Autumn were settling in; perfect hiking weather.

We followed Cedar Creek through a steep passage which eventually leads to a high elevation lake and meadows. The light was glorious on this day, and I was happily enthralled by the changing leaves and the last bit of summer wildflowers blooming on the forest floor.

Change is inevitable, and actually quite comforting in the natural world.

It’s hot now, but autumn will arrive. Winter will yield to spring. The moments in between can be quite beautiful.

“Plodding about on the parched, dusty earth, we turn out thoughts skyward, thirsting for rain. We watch the clouds silently, our need is too deep, too keenly felt, for words. Silently we note the faint breeze that invariably springs up from the west, growing stronger with each passing hour until it has blown away the clouds with them our hopes.”

Mary Kidder Rak- A Cowman’s Wife, 1934

And then, sometimes, the rain comes.

 Available through Manitou Galleries, Santa Fe – Small Works  Show, November 27th  Please email Cyndi Hall
$2,500 Framed

The Spanish Ruins have been a favorite place to visit for several years now; sometimes on my own, sometimes with a group of botanists. Just outside of Payson, Arizona, near the East Verde River, a plateau rises to 4700 feet, creating the perfect location for ancient people to build, grind, hunt, fish, and gather. Misnamed “Spanish” by earlier settlers, this site was most likely ceremonial, created by Salado or Hohokam people.
A variety of wild plants thrive in this location. Ocotillo, native oak, agave, yucca, hedgehog and prickly pear cactus all thrive. These plants would have been very useful for early visitors, and each time I visit this special site, I try to imagine how.
On this day, a small blooming opuntia caught my eye. I loved the way the pad framed the bloom. I found the composition irresistible. Wendy, my botanist friend, found it irresistible too. She harvested the bloom for the Desert Botanical Garden herbarium, where researchers can learn from it for years to come.

Oil on canvas 60in. x 60in.

2005     Offered from Dyana Hesson’s  personal Collection

28,000

The circle, having no beginning and no end, is my favorite shape, both aesthetically and symbolically. A wedding ring, the fellowship of friends, and eternity can all be expressed with a circle. I have manipulated all sorts of flowers, cacti, and succulents into beautiful circles for this series.

Always important in my work is the significance of relationships. When you examine a bouquet of flowers, even if they are all the same type and color, there are distinct differences within the bunch. By themselves they are beautiful, but together they make an impact. The interplay of light and shadows, the repetition of shapes — simply put, the way each part relates to the next — makes a unified composition. It is the same with people, whether in a family or among friends. It is when we are together, offering our unique gifts and experiences to each other, that we are beautiful. So, whether they are circles of the same flowers or a variety of flowers or colors, I hope the viewer will delight in the beauty of the arrangement. My prayer is that they will consider and enjoy the beauty that is right before them, both on the canvas and in their lives.

Inspired by the spring bloom in the Sonoran Desert, Arizona

Banana Yucca and  Texas False Garlic Blooms, Mazatzal Wilderness
Bloomed 4-14-23 5:25pm
Oil on Canvas 36 in. x 48 in., 2026

$15,800 Framed

It’s no secret that I love wandering at the base of the Mazatzal Mountains in the late afternoon. About an hour from my home, down a bumpy dirt road, awaits a land rich with history and diverse plant species. It’s in the sweet spot between desert cholla and ponderosa pines at about 4000 feet. As I write this, it’s fall, and soon I’ll be headed back to this place to check on the land and my plant friends.
The agave get all the attention in this area, but there’s a nice crop of yucca that demands closer examination. The flower pendants gobble up the late day light, and the curly leaf fibers swirl in shades of blue. This plant has so many uses; you can make shampoo, roast the fruit for food, make rope or baskets from the fibers, and create beautiful dye.

Once again, the land seems to give us everything we need, and on top of that we get beauty.
As a painter who loves color, I’m grateful for inspiration like this, and it makes me want to be a better steward of the land. I hope it does the same for you.

The tradition of choosing a state flower was the brainchild of the World’s Congress of Representative Women at the 1893 Chicago World Exposition. The ladies thought a bouquet of all the states’ flowers would be a beautiful symbol of unification. But it wasn’t until 1917 that Wyoming officially chose Castilleja Linariaefolia, commonly known as the Indian Paintbrush, as its official state flower.

Apparently the decision was not unanimous. Botanist and professor Aven Nelson rallied hard for a cactus bloom. “If the gentleman will entertain amendment to his motion I would offer a far more fitting flower—more common, more beautiful and more typical by far is the cactus bloom. Modest and unassuming, the offspring of a despised plant—and yet the glory of our arid domain during early summer, whose delicate tints put to shame the best efforts of the old masters and are only duplicated by the brush of Deity.”

He went on to argue, “True, we have flowers galore, from the flaunting goldenrod to the modest violet; but if we are to have an official flower let it be the cactus and none other, born of the desert yet an emblem of fertility; the floral diadem of nature’s garden; true type of that which grows and thrives and reaches full fruition in spite of blazing sun and an eternity of drought, and the death-dealing, life-destroying blizzard.”*

Other arguments were that there were too many varieties of Paintbrush, hard to identify; and in the end, why would Wyoming choose a parasitic plant, hellbent on robbing nutrients from nearby plants as a symbol of the freest state in the Union?

In the end the DAR and school children rallied, and the bill passed.

This artist thinks it was a good aesthetic choice. To me, they are like crimson flags of freedom against a rugged terrain.

*Sharidan Media, February 4, 2023

A stroll along Mormon Row Road in the southeast corner of Grand Teton National Park reveals a window to the past. Starting in the 1890s, several Mormon settlers set up house here in the shadow of Blacktail Butte. They shared the work of digging irrigation ditches and farming together. No doubt they endured some lean years while trying to tame this land. Their study barns and homes are some of the most photographed in the area.

On this day, the grasses were blowing and the thistle were blooming en masse in front of the homes. This thistle is also a transplant to Wyoming, and testifies to the hardy disposition of both plants and people in the wild west.

Inspired by a morning walk along the creek, Cora, Wyoming.

In my career, I’ve been very fortunate to have been inspired by some very special places in the West. In August of 2023 I experienced a very special ranch in Cora, Wyoming near Pinedale.

In 1902, Robert and Anna May Clark came to Wyoming and homesteaded on the head of Little Duck Creek. They built a two-room log cabin, dug a well, and raised two boys. They called their ranch the Rustic Lodge Ranch, and registered the CL Bar brand. They planted hay, and raised cattle and horses. Eventually, the land sustained a herd of 2500 sheep.

One of their sons, Bert, brought in Dr. Edward Lauzer as a partner in 1930. Lauzer eventually became the sole owner, and married the first registered nurse in Wyoming, Amy Geis Miller. It is rumored that the small cabin on the property was used by Butch Cassidy for medical attention from time to time.

In 1946, the ranch began hosting “dudes”, and cabins were built. Bison were introduced, and a monkey and two African lions entertained guests. Dr. Lauzer also started the new tradition of hosting an annual community BBQ and rodeo.

After Lauzer’s death in 1960, Thomas Lauzer Kitchen took over the ranch and raised the same sheep that Dr. Lauzer had bred. Eventually ranching ended, and the land was divided and sold in forty-acre parcels.

Enter Mr. Erivan Karl Haub and his family. Haub, a German businessman, had fallen in love with the American West. Haub bought up the parcels and put the 7906-acre ranch back together. The Haub family has continued some the ranch’s traditions, like hosting rodeos and raising bison.

The magic of this special land is hard to ignore. Wide Wyoming skies reach down to bison grazing by a rippling, sparkling creek. Wildflowers dance in the breeze along a blue reservoir. If you close your eyes, you can almost imagine the hard-working folks who made this place a productive home.

The day I gathered these blooms was spent enjoying the simple bounties of summer in Wyoming; a little fishing, a little exploring, and a meal shared with a table of people I will never forget. As the sun’s last rays illuminated the Wind River Range, a glass was raised; to all westerners at heart, who seek this land and appreciate its beauty. Cheers!

There are some pretty special places in the higher elevations of Arizona. When the valley’s flowers fade in the summer heat, there are still treasures to find on the hilltops. One of my favorite destinations is near the farming and mining town of Safford, Arizona. The Pinaleño Mountains rise quickly here, to Mount Graham at 10,696 feet. Here, and only here, will you find a small population of endangered Mount Graham red squirrels.*

If you’re not afraid of twists, turns, and dirt ruts, you can travel the Swift Trail (thirty-three miles from the 191) through cottonwoods, sycamores, and ponderosa pines. There are stops along the way; amazing views of historic Fort Grant, and neighboring sky islands like the Galiuros and the Winchesters.

Somewere before the road ends, at a beautiful sparkling blue reservoir, there is a meadow.
On this July afternoon, it was teeming with life. Verbena, coneflowers and wallflowers were swaying in the breeze as pollinators performed touch-and-gos. We lingered here as long as we could, happy for the opportunity to observe this important work, and grateful for the inspiration. The pipevine butterfly landed in front of me, and I knew I would paint him and his flower. The moment exists only in my mind, and only here.

*Since 2014, the conservation center at the Phoenix Zoo has been working hard on developing a pilot breeding program in the hope of producing animals for release in the wild. Numbers of the Mt. Graham red squirrels were as low as thirty-five in 2017, after the Frye fire destroyed 48,000 acres of habitat in the mountain. Learn more at Phoenix Zoo

Inspiration

Each desert blooming season follows an order: hedgehog cactus, prickly pear, cholla, saguaro, with various wildflowers blooming throughout. I always look forward to the jewel colors of cholla blooms that are best seen in late afternoon light. While other cactus blooms are closing up for the day, buckhorn cholla seem to lean in and embrace every last minute of Sonoran sun.

In late April, I roll my Jeep down dusty dirt roads into the alluvial fans of the Superstations looking for the glow. Cactus like these can have good years and not-so-good years. If I’m lucky, I’ll spot a patch of happy chollas, pull off the road, and hike a bit around them, being careful not to puncture myself or step on a rattler.

These are the moments I love with all my heart. The quail song, coyote howl, and cholla glow in the last light of day.

$19,500.00 Framed
 
There is a hilltop near Payson, Arizona that I love. It sits at about 4500 feet, with views of the East Verde River on one side, and the Mazatzal mountain range on other. This hilltop is a botanist’s dream, with a diverse array of cactus and native Arizona plants. There is evidence that an ancient civilization spent time building, gathering and communing in this place too. I think of their time here often when I visit. I wonder what gossip filled the air as the women sat at their grinding stations, looking up occasionally at the mountains in front of them.
 
In the wild, shelter is important. For the hiker, it’s the first thing to consider when stranded in the open; before water, before food, protection from the elements is vital. Plants benefit from shelter, too. Often in the Southwest, certain plants thrive only in the sheltered cover of another plant, or in the shade of a rock. In terrain with diverse geologic formations, life thrives.
 
I am grateful for the merry band of plant lovers who have taught me so much upon this hill.

And I am grateful for the things places like this teach me about my creator, who is my ultimate refuge and shelter under which I can thrive.