inspired by a picture of a young woman in a field of stubble facing a scarecrow at sunset
‘Well, the harvest is in, the days are getting shorter and colder, winter is coming for sure. I wonder if Young Miss will come and see me again like she…oh, there she is. And that silly goat is with her, as always. This will be the last time I will see her, until Spring planting starts. Soon, I’ll be stored away in the warm barn, to sleep the winter away. I like it in the barn; the smell of the cows, the contented clucking of the chickens. Even the rats and mice add a comfortable, warm feeling to it. And in the Spring, when I am taken out to the field again, I will be all fresh and clean.
‘Young Miss has been home for what humans call Thanksgiving. They thank their God for a good harvest and good health. Young Miss said humans have a lot of things that can go wrong with their bodies. Too bad they can’t do what is done for me. Store away the body, let it sleep all through the cold weather, and come back all new and fresh. It’s odd, though; I am always stuffed with new straw, and often have a new head as well as fresh clothing, yet I remember everything. I recall things from when I was first placed here, by the father of Young Miss’s father; so many years.’
“Hello again, Mr. Scarecrow,” Young Miss smiled and touched the scarecrow’s cheek. “I’m off for the city again tomorrow early. I do miss the quiet here, and chatting with you. I know you are just old clothes, a cloth head and stuffed with straw, but I’ve always known that you hear and understand me. It has helped me a lot when things weren’t going well. Thank you, and have a good winter rest. I’ll see you at Easter, I hope. Till then, rest well, and remember me.” She stretched up on her toes and kissed his cheek, then turned and walked away.
Scarecrow watched as she made her way across the field, feeling all weepy and happy. Young Miss had kissed him! ‘I’ll remember that, and treasure the memory for as long as I last. Take care, Young Miss, be well and happy.’ He sighed, and looked around. ‘Soon this will all be covered in snow. Most of the birds will fly away, and the little animals will go to their dens and burrows. There will be no signs of life.
‘It is nice now, though. The trees are so beautiful in reds and golds; there are still a lot of greens, too. And the flowers in the next field! It is so full of colour. The blue Asters, the yellow Bur-Marigold, the red Bee Balm. There are yellow Black Eyed Susans, purple Bell flowers, blue Hepaticus Red Trilium and white Queen Anne’s Lace. Young Miss told me what they area all called. The reds and yellows echo the colours of the trees, almost like reflections; Fall is such a beautiful time of year, yet sad, too. The year is dying, almost all life hides wherever there is warmth and shelter. But even though I know winter is coming, I also know Spring will follow, and the trees will be green, flowers will bloom and bring colour back, the birds will return and sing again, and I’ll see butterflies, too. And Young Miss will come home, and visit me again, so I am happy even when Fall comes.’
