Wet Colors

Before I moved to Arizona, when someone said “desert,” my mind immediately pictured endless sand dunes, dry winds, and maybe a tumbleweed or two. That was it—desert = sand.

But then I got here, and I saw the Sonoran Desert with my own eyes. This isn’t a barren wasteland—it’s alive. It’s green, it’s rugged, and it’s actually the wettest desert in the world. The saguaros stand like guardians, and when golden hour hits, the whole landscape transforms.

Single saguaro cactus under a dramatic Arizona sunset with golden and teal sky.

That transformation is what I call “wet colors.”

Vibrant Arizona sunset with glowing orange sky behind a tall saguaro cactus in the Sonoran Desert.

The name doesn’t come from rain—it comes from the saturation, the way the desert explodes with color at sunrise and sunset. Someone whispered once, “they spray the sunset juice,” and that’s what it feels like. Like someone splashed the sky with neon paint and left it glowing.

Golden-hour desert scene with a tall saguaro cactus against colorful layered clouds.

Maybe that splash came from the Colorado River, out on the Arizona–California border—spilled just right so the desert sky could soak it up and shine it back at us every night.

Wide desert landscape with fiery orange sunset sky and saguaros scattered across the horizon.

The truth is, you don’t just see these sunsets—you feel them. They wrap around you, drench you in fiery oranges, deep purples, and impossible reds. They’re why I spend so much time chasing the light out here, waiting for the moment when the desert decides to put on its nightly show.

Deep red and purple Arizona sunset with silhouetted saguaros in the desert foreground.

This is what I mean when I say “wet colors.” It’s not about water—it’s about how the desert somehow finds a way to flood the sky with more color than your eyes can handle.

Thanks for being here and have fun!

Neal