I’ve been up to visit my parents this weekend. They live in Worcestershire, and near to them is a lovely little village called Feckenham, and in the lovely little village of Feckenham there is an annual Scarecrow Trail.
I love this sort of thing. It’s exactly the Midsomer Murders brand of village activity that makes me tick, along with church bric-a-brac sales and whole community al fresco carol services outside the local pub.
The Scarecrow Trail is an even more elite type of rural event because it involves a) a printed paper map and b) the opportunity to peer into the gardens and windows of all the houses you want to stick your nose into.
There are few things I’d rather spend my Sunday morning doing than wandering about with a little village map and casting a professional eye* over all of the Scarecrow entries.
*subjective
What a lark. Throw in a cake tent and some craft stalls selling gingerbread man tree decorations and I’m in my absolute element.
Here are a selection of the Feckenham Scarecrows: can you guess which I liked best?
