🌾 🎃 Scarecrow Festival | A Cozy Autumn Story with Small Town Charm

0:02 Welcome to The Slow Life. I'm Jennifer Vino and I create, narrate and design the soundscape of this village of cosy stories to relax and unwind. Each week I share an original story. Read 2 times so you can relax even more during the second reading. I'm happy to announce my website, theslowlife.ca. It provides a space where we can connect and I can bring you all things cozy.

0:43 Let's settle in with some easy breathing at your own pace. With each inhale, let fresh air fill the space around your heart. With each exhale, feel the calm air spread through your body and flow out through your arms and legs, gently in through your heart. Gently out through your body, in through your heart, out through your body. And now let's begin.

1:30 This story is called Scarecrow Festival, and it's about uneven works of art, some extra crispy silliness, and friends along the way. Most mornings are cool enough for a jacket. Now, though the sun is steady and bright. I'm winding my way back into the heart of the village, through fields already bare except for stubble and the odd Bale of hay. I passed long wooden fences where crows sit on the posts, glossy as wet stones on the beach. The festival has begun two weeks of straw figures and other celebrations of the season.

2:25 Before I reached the first cluster of houses. I see a shape at the end of the driveway of the apple orchard. A figure in a red Plaid shirt, arms out the head. A painted pumpkin with one eyebrow raised as if amused by something in the distance. This is one of the more traditional looking ones I'll see on my walk home. During the festival. Everyone is invited to place their own version of a scarecrow on their front lawn or steps. Some are careful works of art, stitched and posed with precision. Others are lumpy and improvised, but cheerful in their wonkiness. Along the edge of town.

3:18 They stand like a welcoming committee, straw or gloved hands raised in greeting. A gardener in overalls stands by a shed with a trowel tied to its hand. A couple of Fisher folk lean against a Dory. A trio is sitting at a card table with mugs of something that could be tea, but one never knows what these characters get up to while we are not looking. I reached the sidewalks, which are busier than usual. Families, both local and visiting, moves slowly, pausing to point things out to take photos of each other with the stuffed creations, then deciding in which direction to go next. Aside from the scarecrows, there are smaller hay bales that people are welcome to sit on, barrels of dried stocks and colourful corns setting the background for the displays. Pumpkins and gourds, of course, are plentiful on every lawn. Lots of houses still host the classic style of Plaid or flannel shirts, blue jeans and straw hats, but many have expanded the art.

4:44 A famous singer and songwriter stands with her new fiance, their faces painted onto thick canvas fabric. An unmistakable Oprah stands with a microphone in hand, wearing a beautiful purple dress. Beside her is a brand new wooden car painted red, and she's pointing right at me as I smile in recognition of the gift she's offering me. Who else will I recognize? I wonder. As I walk further on, I see some popular actors and athletes either standing in photogenic poses or in action doing what they do best.

5:32 Each one, traditional or not, would have taken hours to put together. There's even a committee of volunteers who make scarecrows for those who want to partake by having one on their lawn but might not have the skills or equipment to put one together. I take a detour into the park, knowing there will be some straw filled friends there too. At the pedestrian entrance across the walkway, there are boards painted white, set down to look like a crosswalk and strolling almost the length of them, as in their well known image are The Beatles, haircuts and all.

6:22 As I do my own stroll through other streets, circling towards the square, I'm amazed at how many figures I need to do a double take of before realizing their scarecrows or real people, especially when folks are among them taking photos. They're not all human forms, of course. There's the Lion and Toto the dog with their other friends from the Wizard of Oz in the next yard over. A farmer tends to her cows that are close to life-size, an amazing feat of scarecrow skill. With Halloween coming up on the tail of the festival, there are many witches, vampires, and other spooky characters lurking about.

7:17 I Mosey into the village square, excited to see what they've come up with this year. The first one I spot leans forward near the doorway of the bakery, one mitten hand stretched out with a tray of pastries that looked suspiciously blackened. The expression on its burlap face is funny, with two uneven buttons for eyes and a stitched O of surprise. A small sign propped against it reads Make that extra crispy. It's fun to see the bakery owners poking fun at themselves. In front of the library, a scarecrow stands with a teetering stack of books rising well above its head. I wonder what the books are made from, glued together titles written on the fake binding in marker or paint. The bit of breeze makes the stack sway ever so slightly, giving the illusion that it might collapse at any moment, though I'm sure it won't.

8:32 Some kids stand nearby, counting how many books are in his wavering pile, and they try to figure out whether it would really be possible to carry so many near the fountain. Two others with bags for their heads share a bench, one with an accordion stretched across its lap, the other with stuffed gloves frozen in applause. A small speaker tucked beneath the bench plays a tune that drifts throughout the viewers conversation. People stopped to listen for a moment before moving on, the music not overpowering and fading behind them. Outside the cafe, a pair of scarecrows sits beneath the awning, heads tilted towards one another. Between them rests the plate of fabric muffins. A few chairs are pulled up nearby, inviting anyone to sit and join them.

9:43 I stay a bit longer in the square, taking in the whole scene, the figures real and handmade, the slow rhythm of every one drifting from one creation to the next. Ready for lunch now, I turned towards home. The scarecrows I pass on my street feel like old friends on the walk, having met many times in the past week or so. And when I reach my own step, I find mine just as I left it. A tartan patterned shirt of blue-green, white, yellow and red, gloved hands stuffed with straw and some extra poking out hold a pumpkin on her lap and she smiles at me in thick red marker. Nothing fancy, but still fun and comforting to come home to Scarecrow Festival.

10:55 Most mornings are cool enough for a jacket. Now, though the sun is steady and bright. I'm winding my way back into the heart of the village, through fields already bare except for stubble and the odd Bale of hay. I passed long wooden fences where crows sit on the posts, glossy as wet stones on the beach. The festival has begun two weeks of straw figures and other celebrations of the season. Before I reached the first cluster of houses. I see a shape at the end of the driveway of the apple orchard. A figure in a red Plaid shirt, arms out the head. A painted pumpkin with one eyebrow raised as if amused by something in the distance.

11:55 This is one of the more traditional looking ones I'll see on my walk home. During the festival. Everyone is invited to place their own version of a scarecrow on their front lawn or steps. Some are careful works of art, stitched and posed with precision. Others are lumpy and improvised, but cheerful in their wonkiness. Along the edge of town. They stand like a welcoming committee, straw or gloved hands raised in greeting. A gardener in overalls stands by a shed with a trowel tied to its hand. A couple of Fisher folk lean against the Dory. A trio is sitting at a card table with mugs of something that could be tea, but one never knows what these characters get up to while we're not looking.

12:59 I reached the sidewalks, which are busier than usual. Families, both local and visiting, moves slowly, pausing to point things out to take photos of each other with the stuffed creations, then deciding in which direction to go next. Aside from the scarecrows, there are smaller hay bales that people are welcome to sit on, barrels of dried stocks and colourful corns setting the background for the displays. Pumpkins and gourds, of course, are plentiful on every lawn.

13:41 Lots of houses still host the classic style of Plaid or flannel shirts, blue jeans and straw hats, but many have expanded the art. A famous singer and songwriter stands with her new fiance, their faces painted onto thick canvas fabric. An unmistakable Oprah stands with a microphone in hand, wearing a beautiful purple dress. Beside her is a brand new wooden car painted red, and she's pointing right at me as I smile in recognition of the gift she's offering me.

14:24 Who else will I recognize? I wonder. As I walk further on, I see some popular actors and athletes either standing in photogenic poses or in action doing what they do best. Each one, traditional or not, would have taken hours to put together. There's even a committee of volunteers who make scarecrows for those who want to partake by having one on their lawn but might not have the skills or equipment to put one together. I take a detour into the park, knowing there will be some straw filled friends there too. At the pedestrian entrance across the walkway, there are boards painted white, set down to look like a crosswalk and strolling almost the length of them, as in their well known image are The Beatles, haircuts and all. As I do my own stroll through other streets, circling towards the square, I'm amazed at how many figures I need to do a double take of before realizing their scarecrows or real people, especially when folks are among them taking photos. They're not all human forms, of

15:54 course. There's the lion and Toto the dog with their other friends from the Wizard of Oz in the next yard over. A farmer tends to her cows that are close to life-size and amazing feat of scarecrow skill. With Halloween coming up on the tail of the festival, there are many witches, vampires, and other spooky characters lurking about. I Mosey into the village square, excited to see what they've come up with this year. The first one I spot leans forward near the doorway of the bakery, one mitted hand stretched out with a tray of pastries that looked suspiciously blackened.

16:48 The expression on its burlap face is funny, with two uneven buttons for eyes and a stitched O of surprise. A small sign propped against it reads Make that extra crispy. It's fun to see the bakery owners poking fun at themselves. In front of the library, a scarecrow stands with a teetering stack of books rising well above its head. I wonder what the books are made from, glued together titles written on the fake binding in marker or paint.

17:30 The bit of breeze makes the stack sway ever so slightly, giving the illusion that it might collapse at any moment, though I'm sure it won't. Some kids stand nearby, counting how many books are in his wavering pile, and they try to figure out whether it would really be possible to carry so many near the fountain. Two others with bags for their heads share a bench, one with an accordion stretched across its lap, the other with stuffed gloves frozen in applause. A small speaker tucked beneath the bench plays a tune that drifts throughout the viewers conversation.

18:17 People stopped to listen for a moment before moving on, the music not overpowering and fading behind them. Outside the cafe, a pair of scarecrows sits beneath the awning, heads tilted towards one another. Between them rests the plate of fabric muffins. A few chairs are pulled up nearby, inviting anyone to sit and join them. I stay a bit longer in the square, taking in the whole scene, the figures real and handmade, the slow rhythm of every one drifting from one creation to the next. Ready for lunch now, I turned towards home. The scarecrows I pass on my street feel like old friends on the walk, having met many times in the past week or so. And when I reach my own step, I find mine just as I left it. A tartan patterned shirt of blue-green, white, yellow and red, gloved hands stuffed with straw and some extra poking out hold a pumpkin on her lap and she smiles at me in thick red marker.

19:49 Nothing fancy, but still fun and comforting to come home to. I wish you sweet dreams.