Sometimes things pop up early, as was the case in 2026. Rain came early in buckets, and then a warm spell forced plants and flowers out of the soil before their usual time. So I keep my eyes peeled even in January and February.

This scene, captured in the Catalina Foothills early in February, is a prime example.
Little pops of pink and white dappled the slopes as we made our way to the Romero pools and waterfall. All was well, until we heard the unnerving sound (like a woman screaming) of a mountain lion coming from the ridgeline across from us. We glassed the slope just as several deer were scattering. So we changed course and enjoyed the elevation where these flowers were blooming.

Anemones are tubers and members of the buttercup family. These, as well as the other smaller flowers on the foothills, are among my favorites.

What’s Up? Buttercups.

$15,200 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 springtime, 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.

If you love Arizona, you’ve no doubt heard the legend of the lost gold in the Superstition Mountains.

In the 1840s, the Peralta family developed a gold mine in the mountains, and on their last expedition back to northern Mexico in 1848 were ambushed by Apaches. All were killed but one.

Since then, there has been an ongoing quest to locate the mine. In the 1870s, Jacob Waltz, “the Dutchman” (he was German) was supposedly aided by a Peralta descendant and found the mine. Waltz and his partner, Jacob Weiser, worked the mine and allegedly hid one or more caches of gold in the Superstitions.

Adventure-seekers have been looking for the treasure ever since. Some have been victims of foul play and death. Adding to the lore is the idea that Weaver’s Needle, the geological remains of a volcanic eruption, makes a shadow that points to the location on certain days of the year.

For me, the true treasure of this rugged area is found while hiking and exploring. In certain years, with the appropriate rain, slopes are covered with blue dicks, owl’s clover and mariposa lilies*.

In this composition I positioned a leaf of the lily so it points to the base of Weaver’s Needle, to pay homage to the legend.

Gold or not, this region is special. It’s a peaceful place, where lilies wave in the breeze, cerulean skies yield to golden sunsets, and indigo blankets the nights.

*Not to be confused with poppies, Mariposa lilies (Calochortus) are indeed lilies! The word Calochortus is derived from Greek and means “beautiful grass”.

The Land of Grass and Flowers
Bellflowers and Railroad Grade at Benny Creek, White Mountains, AZ
Bloomed 8-25-24 5:30 PM           Oil on Canvas 40 in. x 30 in., 2026
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For years, this spot in the White Mountains of Arizona had intrigued me. Located in a cienega near Boardshack Knoll, the land dips and yields to Benny Creek. There is a small bridge that spans the gap, which always seemed like a sheep bridge to me.

One afternoon in August, after a glorious monsoon day, a friend and I finally explored the land here. The native grass swayed in the clean breeze, and interspersed in the straw were bobbing purple bellflowers, native to Arizona but found mostly in the White Mountains. It was a glorious sight as the sun slowly sank into the earth.

 
Later, after studying maps and doing research, I found the bridge was not for sheep, but for a train. The Apache Railway was built by Flagstaff lumberman Tom Pollak in 1916. Its purpose was to haul logs from Maverick (8000 feet el.) down a six-percent grade to the mill in McNary. The rails were built with the help of one hundred sixty mules and horses, and a camp of one hundred fifty men.

 
In 1965, a few railroad men decided to run the steam locomotive as a tourist excursion. The lumber ran at night, and passengers rode in the day. For $6.95 you could board at 9:00 AM in McNary, enjoy a cowboy picnic lunch of barbeque beef under the pines at Apache Springs, and return by 3:00 PM.

 
On its inaugural journey on June 26, 1965, dignitaries, family, and friends of the train crew boarded for the historic occasion. Jo Jeffers described it in the July 1966 issue of Arizona Highways: “That first day there were speeches by politicians and Indian leaders. ‘Tumbling Tumbleweeds’ and other cowboy ballads were sung and played by the deputy sheriff, and recitations by Milo Wiltbank, the cowboy poet of the White Mountains:

Why don’t you come up here with me,
Camp in the shade of an old pine tree,
Pitch your tent by a gurgling stream,
Sit in the sun and rest and dream?
You’ll enjoy your idle hours
Here in the land of grass and flowers,
Here in the old White Mountains.
 

Today the trains are gone, and only traces of the rails appear on satellite maps. Alas, I often feel I was born too late. But not to worry; you can hike this section all the way to the 260, and enjoy the pine covered knolls, and the cienigas, and bellflowers dancing in the land of grass and flowers.

Mexican Poppies and Desert Dandelion* Near Tubac, AZ

Bloomed 4.17.24

28×22 oil on canvas

$4800

These poppies and desert dandelion were found in a sandy canyon near historical Tubac, Arizona. My friend Veronika and I first noticed the dandelions on the roadsides as we approached town, and then were excited to find more of this simple, happy flower down a sandy wash. I decided to paint the flowers suspended in the sky, untethered, perhaps twirling in a gentle Arizona breeze. A simple delight on a beautiful spring day.

*I researched the dandelion, to see if any were documented in my area of Arizona and found a New York Botanical Garden Steere Herbarium entry collected by a Mrs. Capt. Hoyt near Fort Apache in 1892.  A little more research led to a R.C. Hoyt who was stationed there the same year. What a delight to have a small connection to a fellow amateur botanist from so long ago. I think we would have been friends.

If there’s anything I’ve learned in my 36 years in the southwest, it’s how different the weather can be from one year to the next; and how quickly we forget, only focusing on the present state of things. Often, we have to be patient, for seasons to change, and for rain to come.

Wildflower seeds can remain dormant in the soil for years, enduring hot, dry conditions; but if we have a wet autumn, the seeds awaken, sprout, and blanket the desert floor with glorious color. Where fire has burned, where soil has been disrupted, they thrive almost miraculously.

In the spring of 2023, all the conditions had lined up for a tremendous blooming season.

All up and down the Bush highways near the Salt River there were fields of orange, purple and pink. People parked their cars and waded through the grasses to take family photos, twirl in the colors, and watch the wild horses eat their fill of colorful blooms.

If this happened every year, perhaps we would take it for granted. It’s a special occasion, worth the wait.

$60 each

Limited supply, please indicate which block you’d like to order in the notes section, thank you!

(in person shopping at Western Spirit Museum Store, Scottsdale)

Add a pop of Arizona botanical color to any
décor. Dress up your table, windowsill, desktop or shelf
with a special edition Dyana Hesson Arizona Elevations print.
Created from Hesson’s paintings and crafted in Arizona,
these beautiful 5” x 5” prints glow behind an inch of acrylic glass.

Superstition Color, Cholla Blooms from the Superstition Mountains
SOLD OUT   A Good Landing, Butterfly weed from the Sierra Ancha Wilderness
Arizona Spin Cycle, Wildflowers from the White Mountains

or order all three!
$165 for the collection of three

Made in Arizona, USA.

What will you build with your blocks?

*This collection is called Arizona Elevations because each composition represents a different region of Arizona, from the desert to the Mountains.
Specifically 2200, 5500, and 7385 ft.

We have it all in Arizona!

Available at Manitou Gallery, Santa Fe

If there’s anything I’ve learned in my 36 years in the southwest, it’s how different the weather can be from one year to the next; and how quickly we forget, only focusing on the present state of things. Often, we have to be patient, for seasons to change, and for rain to come.
Wildflower seeds can remain dormant in the soil for years, enduring hot, dry conditions; but if we have a wet autumn, the seeds awaken, sprout, and blanket the desert floor with glorious color. Where fire has burned, where soil has been disrupted, they thrive almost miraculously.

In the spring of 2023, all the conditions had lined up for a tremendous blooming season.
All up and down the Bush Highway near the Salt River there were fields of orange, purple and pink. People parked their cars and waded through the grasses to take family photos, twirl in the colors, and watch the wild horses eat their fill of colorful blooms.
If this happened every year, perhaps we would take it for granted. It’s a special occasion, worth the wait.

12,800
I stalked this plant in the White Mountains of Arizona for many summers. I rarely saw it, and when I did the plentiful clusters of bright blue buds would be tightly closed.
Dang it.

Next year, same thing. And the next, and the next. This plant’s flowers only open fully when there is plenty of sun, and I was only seeing these beauties under cloudy conditions. Then in the summer of 2024, after a long day of hiking various trails in and out of pouring rain, the sun finally came out just before sunset. My friend and I pulled over to walk the West Baldy trail for a bit, and the beautifully saturated and sun-soaked forest yielded several gentian plants; all of them were fully open.

What a delight to finally see what had been concealed from me for so long. It felt like a friend finally telling me her deepest secret. Such a magnificent shade of blue, and so worth the wait. Your secret is safe with me.

There’s something about a mountain; I have looked up to them all my life (pun intended). I have walked around them, skied down them, scrambled up their faces. I have been breathless from lack of oxygen, while gaining perspective that is only possible when standing at a peak. Mountains are landmarks, a way to find your way.
For Martha Summerhayes, Bill Williams Mountain outside of Flagstaff was a companion during her hard journey through Arizona.
“For some days, Bill Williams was the predominating feature of the landscape; turn whichever way we might, still this purple mountain was before us. It seemed to pervade the entire country, and took on such wonderful pink colors at sunset. Bill Williams held me in thrall, until the hills and the valleys in the vicinity of Fort Whipple shut him out from my sight. But he seemed to have come into my life somehow, and in spite of his name, I loved him for the companionship he had given me during those long, hot, weary and interminable days.” *

She did not have the luxury of traveling to the top to see the view. There were not resources for such frivolity back then. But if she had, she might have noticed the abundance of firecracker penstemon bursting in bright red around every corner. In July they are in full bloom, attracting bees and butterflies. At the top, you can sit at the base of the fire tower and watch the monsoon clouds build in the distance.

There is a reason why we say “mountaintop experience.” It is a special feeling. Just ask the butterflies on old Bill Willians.

*Martha Summerhayes, “Vanished Arizona”, written about her journey through Arizona as an army wife from 1874 to 1878.

$2400

It’s always exciting to see something for the first time. In 2023 on the Barnhardt Waterfall trail, I spotted a few Fritillaries (or Leopard Liles). I had never seen them before in Arizona and was delighted. I snapped photos, made some notes, and planned a trip back the following year at about the same time.

It was worth the wait. The following year, with plenty of autumn rain, there were more plants than the previous year. Randy and I had a great hike to the gushing waterfall at the top of the trail, and I began to plan the painting in my mind. Two years after the inspiration, the painting finally came to life. I chose to paint a tall, stately portrait of the plant, in tribute to the waterfall.

With good stewardship, we should see these beautiful plants year after year.

$165 for the collection of three

limited supply (in person shopping at Western Spirit Museum Store, Scottsdale)

Add a pop of Arizona botanical color to any
décor. Dress up your table, windowsill, desktop or shelf
with a special edition Dyana Hesson Arizona Elevations print.
Created from Hesson’s paintings and crafted in Arizona,
these beautiful 5” x 5” prints glow behind an inch of acrylic glass.

Superstition Color, Cholla Blooms from the Superstition Mountains
A Good Landing, Butterfly weed from the Sierra Ancha Wilderness
Arizona Spin Cycle, Wildflowers from the White Mountains

Made in Arizona, USA.

What will you build with your blocks?

*This collection is called Arizona Elevations because each composition represents a different region of Arizona, from the desert to the Mountains.
Specifically 2200, 5500, and 7385 ft.

We have it all in Arizona!

Available at Manitou Gallery in Santa Fe

In the Southwest we are blessed by the beauty of many varieties of opuntia (or prickly pear), some native, some introduced. One of my favorite plants is the Chenille Prickly Pear. While in bloom, its flowers range from yellow to crimson on the same plant. But don’t get too close; also nicknamed Cowboy’s Red Whiskers, this plant is deceptively prickly due to its dense clusters of glochids (or microspines), which are painful and hard to remove.

These plants are most at home in the Monterrey region of Mexico and along the Rio Grand in Texas, but they are a favorite cactus in many southwest gardens, including mine. On this day, their colors looked as if they were dancing, twirling and spinning like ladies in their finest at a fiesta.

Party of Three, Fields of Green and Old Gate, White Mountains, AZ
9×12 oil on canvas SOLD
$900

Party of Three, Mountain Dandelion, White Mountains, AZ   SOLD
9×12 oil on canvas
$90

Time and Place Series, August 20, 2022 11:07 am

Come closer, said the view,
I have more to show you.
Walk towards me, said the flower, I’m brighter than I seem.
Listen carefully, said the Bluebird,
for my song will lift you,
And your heart will be content as you wander down the stream.
-dh

22×28 original oil on canvas
$4000

August is a special time in the high elevations of Arizona’s White Maintains. In years of plentiful rain, the grasslands burst with colorful wildflowers, that sway in the breeze and soak up the last bit of warmth before autumn sets in.

It was the last day of our annual visit to the X Diamond Ranch on the banks of the Little Colorado River. As is often the case with me, I just needed to explore one more place.  Randy and I walked the large expanse of grassy plateau and I could hear the rush of swollen waters racing towards the Grand Canyon below us. I thought about who had walked this ground before me. Native Indians, settlers, ranchers, wanderers.

Then, I saw yellow; Stoneseed flowers moving slightly in the tall grass, as if dancing one last dance, before the cold of winter.

I close my eyes and I can see, smell, and hear the time and place again.

40×30 Oil on Canvas ©2024 Private Collection*

Some things really are a labor of love…

Way down south in Arizona lives a rare wildflower called the Arizona Blue Star.

We happened upon it while exploring near Patagonia, Arizona late in the day on April 22, 2023. We had just finished some tricky driving (at one point we had to drive backwards down a steep, narrow grade because there was no place to turn around) and had stopped to rest in the sandy wash. My eyes were darting around the landscape looking for color when I noticed them; tall, star-shaped, white and lilac flowers swaying in the breeze.

In all my exploring, I had never seen such bloom. When I got home, I researched this special plant and found out how rare it was. It’s only been found here and in one canyon in Sonora.

This plant is rated G2 “imperiled” which means it’s at high risk of extinction or elimination due to restricted range, few populations or occurrences, steep declines, severe threats, or other factors.

Seeing something for the first time is pretty special; capturing the moment on canvas, a challenge. But the Arizona Blue Stars lined up, so to speak. My collector Steve was looking for a special way to celebrate his wife, who loves southern Arizona. I shared my excitement for this plant and told him “I love the idea of a bouquet in the sky, as if held by a bride as she walks down the aisle.” Steve wrote back, “Coincidentally, we were married 34 years to the day of the photo. She held her bridal bouquet as she walked down the aisle under the swords of an Airforce Honor Guard.”

A long marriage, like the Arizona Blue Star, is rare. Golly, I love the west. Cheers Steve and Colleen!

*on display at “Wild Arizona” Sonoran Desert Museum, Opening 10-3-2025

Brittlebush over Camelback Mountain, AZ

60×30 Oil on Canvas

There are so many things that are iconic about Arizona; sunsets, saguaros, and the howl of a coyote at day’s end. But if you’ve spent any time in the more populated cities of Scottsdale or Phoenix you’ve undoubtedly seen one of our most famous icons; a mountain named for a resting camel. It’s lovely from all angles, and its visibility aids in navigation. From my home, Camelback’s hindquarters are a stately set of pyramids that appear deep blue at sunset. From the south, the camel gazes towards the west, and homes climb its slopes as hikers march along its back. But perhaps the loveliest view of Camelback can be seen from the southern slope of Mummy Mountain to the north.

From this vista, you have a great view of Paradise Valley. You can almost imagine the large plots of farmland that were irrigated here in the early 1900’s, courtesy of redwood flumes carrying water from the Verde River. Over the years, the early ranches and estates gave way to resorts and homes, but the beauty and charm of this valley remains.

The Camel is not going anywhere, and neither are the flowers. Long before ranchers and farmers and water flumes, the brittlebush bloomed. Native Americans counted on it. It was used to treat headaches, joint pain and wounds. The stems were utilized to produce a clear resin used for glue. Even following a dry winter, you can count on the sunny yellow brittlebush flowers to grace Arizona slopes and washes. *

On this sunny April day, it was all as it should be. After heavy winter rains, the air was clean and the happy yellow flowers were swaying in the breeze. Camelback looked sleepy, as he always does, and in the distance, I’m sure I heard a coyote howl.

* “The hairs on the brittlebush plant serve several purposes. Many desert plants have hairy leaves or stems. The hairs act like a blanket over the leaves to protect them from the heat and cold. The white color reflects the sunlight helping to keep the plant cool. They also help trap any moisture and reduce the amount of water lost.” – Arizona Sonoran Desert Museum

Sometimes inspiration is nearby, in the backyard, at sunset, during the super-bloom of 2023.

28×22 Oil on Canvas

(this Painting will be a part of the Cowgirl Up exhibit and sale, March 31st, 2022. Please contact cowgirlup@westernmuseum.org to purchase)

From the Time and Place series

This was my first time visiting Kinishba Ruins near Fort Apache Historic Park. Having recently read Craig Child’s “House of Rain” and Martha Summerhayes’ “Vanished Arizona”, which both describe this historic area of Arizona, I was excited to walk this land and imagine the activity that once filled this 600-room pueblo.

Constructed around 1250 A. D. by the pre-Colombian Mogollon culture, there were supposedly 1000 occupants doing life here; having meals, celebrating, grieving losses, arguing, laughing, resting.

As I walked carefully around the sandstone walls, I began to see plant life that interested me. Specifically, the silverleaf nightshade.

These star-shaped purple blooming plants are common, but complicated. They are showy with yellow stamens and fruit, have beautiful silvery foliage, reseed easily, and are drought-tolerant. They are also prickly, and entirely toxic.
Most tribes who have inhabited this area have used nightshade for various purposes. In my research, I learned that the medicine men would chew the root and treat rattlesnake bites.
But maybe on an afternoon this this, the children of the pueblo would do what I did as a kid. Maybe they would gather a bunch for their mom. And maybe they would lay on their backs and watch the clouds. And maybe, when the sun sank and the skies turned from cerulean to indigo, they would watch the stars come out.
I bet they did.
-dh

from the Time and Place series

The circle, having no beginning, and no end, is my favorite shape, both aesthetically and symbolically. A wedding vow, a fellowship of friends, and eternity can all be expressed with a circle. This is a theme I like to visit often in my work.

In the natural world, circles or cycles are the order of business. Seasons come and go, and come again. The skies open up and quench the land, seeds sprout, flowers bloom, die, and the cycle begins again.

Every summer I return to the White Mountains of Arizona. Rolling grasslands collide with thick pine covered forests and the Little Colorado River begins its journey from the slopes of Mount Baldy. This is where inspiration blooms and my mind dwells on conservation.

Last summer during my visit, it rained daily, sometimes for hours. Hard drenching rain.

I always thank God for rain like this, because having been a desert dweller for many years, I know how absolutely essential water is to our very existence in this great state.

On the banks of the Little Colorado River one clear morning, I knelt down to enjoy the diversity of blooms that surrounded me. How could I choose just one to paint?  Next to me the rain-swollen river was churning and swirling like a wash tub. Over me, a blanket of cerulean sky stretched into infinity.

So, I didn’t choose just one flower. I wanted to express the bounty of the land, and combined all the elements of that moment in time on the canvas. I hope I can return to this place year after year after year. To give thanks for God’s provisions, and to consider how I can be a better steward of this remarkable region of our great big world.

dh 2022

Featured Wild flowers:
Pale Mountain Dandelion
Western Spiderwart
Morning Glory
Scarlet Morning Glory
Southwestern Cosmos
Globemallow
In memory of Kitty Collins, who had an interest in water too.

Video Nov 16 2022, 2 16 06 PM

Over 800 people used to live near here in a town called Pinal. They were caught up in the Silver King Mine boom of 1878. The architecture they built has melted into the ground.  Dinner plate shards from the once booming hotel lay next to Apache tears and other stones in Queen Creek. But Picketpost mountain and wild plants that adorn her and the canyons here remain. And year after year, the wildflowers bloom.

They arch in the wind and glow with colors that are timeless. And the new-old town, Superior, Arizona, is bustling with new life and  cold beer.

These are the places that make Arizona special. It’s a privilege to paint them.

-dh

Available at Cowgirl Up, Desert Caballeros Western Museum, Wickenburg, AZ

Proxy bidding is still available by phone, please contact curator Mary Ann Igna 928-684-2272 ext 101

Exhibition & Sale March 25- September 4, 2022

March 25-27: 17th Annual Cowgirl Up! opening weekend events. Tickets now on sale.

March 25-September 4: Open to public.

Cowgirl Up! Online begins about one week after the public opening. View the exhibition artworks and sale virtually.

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