S. A. Walton Limited Edition Prints- A Bad Feather Day

Oxeye daisies remind me of the farm. I remember that when I first came to the farm, we had daisies in the spring- everywhere, like snow- and then they nearly disappeared. When I grew older I discovered where they had gone. My father's relentless mowing wiped them and most other wildflowers out; and though, for the duration of my youth they were few and far between, thay have returned to grace the land once again. Now, after several years of neglect, the little farm has taken up a cloak of flowers like I have never seen before in that region.

I planted these in my yard in Illinois to give me a bit of the old feeling of the farm that I remembered and kept hidden away in my heart until once more, daisies could flourish there. And, as wild grape will, it popped up to accompany the oxeyes. Wild grape, of course, also brings back many memories, and the flavor and aroma of wild grape jelly being made upon the stove is not to be compared with the dull stuff on the supermarket shelves.

Mockingbirds always seem plentiful; evidently their parents take good care of their wayward young. One has to wonder how they can stand to raise them though, as the baby mockingbird has what is possibly the most piercing and monotonous call in all of the fledgling world. It is a wonder they are not abandoned on the spot.

Well, one day I heard that call. And HEARD that call. And as I approached the tuft of daisies near my fish pond I saw the little creature from whom the call was emanating. There it was, frozen in place, looking for all the world like a winged version of the Adam's Family's Uncle Fester. What incredible "eyebrows" it had, faintly quivering in an errant breeze, reminding me of my own futile efforts with a brush and comb. Naturally this had to be painted, and "A Bad Feather Day" is the result.