Wray Scarecrow Festival 2012
They take parking a car in a field very seriously in Wray. About three men in luminous tabards and various facial expressions from ecstatic enthusiasm to somber steady seriousness gently guide us through to a sweet smooth spot next to another car in a field. I feel it was £1.50 well spent.
Wray seems to be a place where many things might be Taken Very Seriously and Decided by a Committee. I went to a cold car boot here last week and all the books had all been very recently featured in Sunday supplements of Good Newspapers. I suspect nipping to the Post office here with a hangover on a Saturday morning might be fraught with discussing meta-textuality within AS Byatt and Victoria Beckham’s Learning To Fly is hidden next to the empty Gordons bottles in the conservatory.
The theme for this years scarecrow exhibition encompasses anniversaries- the Titanic, the Jubilee, etc and the Olympics.
Many villagers decide to try and take on all of these grand narratives by having a sagging straw filled queen saying something about the Olympics beginning with ‘One…’
The first scarecrow I was going to caption was of Boris Johnson but my boyfriend could not bear to take a photo of the mop topped lumpen caricature. Or even his scarecrow…
I have never see such immaculate rubbish in my life. I could quite happily live in this small triangle where I suspect a protractor might have been involved. And this was the rubbish from a fun fair! It was a very neat fun fair to be honest. I wanted some awful chips in a cone and perhaps a wild-eyed carnie but there were kangaroo burgers and soft rock played in quiet measured tones instead.
A canoe, a scarecrow and the queen all united against Cameron. Now THIS is how revolutions happen.
What Jubilee? What recession? In this house we only like spies. Spies are awesome. I was not allowed to have a scarecrow in a holdall. The committee said No.
You know you are in a bad way when looking at scarecrows in swimming costumes makes you compare cellulite with them.
It is also the anniversary of the Pendle witches. And Colonel Gaddafi apparently, looking towards the back.
This looked so much like the actual queen I had to stop and stare and fire five rounds just to be on the safe side.
In Wray, people have spare Dysons just in case of the occasion of gay/queen/Queen/I Want To Break Free video scarecrow puns.
I like the photos of local children in the portholes of this one. Are they simulating drowning or just simulating watching scarecrows drown? Leonardo De Caprio scarecrow’s big rubber glove hand on Kate’s nether regions adds extra pathos and intrigue.
Usain Bolt is actually made of bolts. An astounding feat but I would not want to be neighbours with the dedicated, literally minded welder of metal.
Wray loves synchronized swimming. This was terrifyingly ambitious, splendid and detailed. Apart from the feet. But feet are hard.
There was a parade of giant scarecrows on Friday night. It was somewhat reminiscent of middle England Wickerman. Apart from the fact that nobody died. Unless the Teacup ride at the fair turned nasty later.