The Straw Folk

Standing tall amongst allotments, vegetable patches and unruly gardens, the Straw Folk listen to secrets carried upon the wind. They are watchers, storytellers and rather unreliable bird scarers, each with a character entirely their own.

In my chaotic little corner of Kent, old clothes, forgotten fabrics and weathered scraps are being given new life as one of the British countryside’s most familiar figures.

There is something wonderfully peculiar about a scarecrow isn’t there?

For centuries, they have stood at the edges of fields, farms, gardens and allotments. Crooked guardians dressed in cast-off shirts, wind-battered hats and trousers that almost certainly belonged to somebody else beforehand.

Faded by sunshine, softened by rain and generally regarded with far more curiosity than fear by all of the local birds. In time, each one becomes part of the landscape and a familiar figure among the beans, cabbages and hedgerows.

With one wooden foot in our world and the other somewhere far more curious, each one I make brings a new tale into my story-filled world, The Raggedys.

From their posts among the vegetables, they listen to secrets carried in the wind, hear stories from the passing birds and keep watch over the paths used by creatures too small, or too peculiar, to be noticed by ordinary (human) folk.

Some are solemn keepers of the pumpkin patch. Some are enthusiastic guardians of the lettuces. Others appear far too friendly to frighten a sparrow and are much more interested in the latest allotment gossip.

One thing to always be sure of though, no two are ever quite alike.

Every Raggedy scarecrow is carefully created from reclaimed clothing, rescued fabrics, old buttons and beautifully mis-matched materials.

A worn shirt may become a scarecrow’s Sunday best. A forgotten button may become a watchful eye. A frayed piece of cloth may be patched, stitched and allowed to begin another life beneath the open sky.

Their uneven stitches, faded colours and curious imperfections are never hidden. They are the very details that give each character its history, expression and peculiar personality.

Some look dependable.

Some appear wildly theatrical.

Others look as though they have travelled a very long way and collected several excellent stories along the dirt path.

They are not made to look factory-perfect. They are made to look as though they have always belonged somewhere, beside an old potting shed, beneath an apple tree or standing silently among the tomato’s with their pockets full of feathers and secrets.

A Raggedy scarecrow is not intended to remain pristine.

It is made to stand outside, watch the seasons turn and gradually become part of its surroundings.

Rain may soften its clothes. Sunshine may fade its colours. The wind may leave its hat sitting at a slightly more obscure angle than before.

These changes are not considered flaws. They are simply new pieces of its story.

With each passing season, the character becomes a little more settled, a little more weathered and a little more at home.

In a world crowded with identical things, a Raggedy scarecrow is intended to feel like an heirloom in the making, something to be named, photographed, repaired, redressed and remembered for years and years to come.