Wray Scarecrow Festival

What a beautiful day we had today the sun shone, but better than that the air was warm, no arctic breeze blowing in from Scandinavia to spoil the fun. The morning began with a quick mission to the nearest shop, the 13 year old is cooking at school tomorrow and generally asks me to come up with the ingredients the night before about two hours after the local shops have shut. Today even though it is a bank holiday I’m ahead of him so Fajitas will be made tomorrow…. they may not get eaten but at least I’ve done my bit.

Then my beloved and I set off to Wray to see the scarecrows, we hit a queue of traffic 3 miles from Wray all going our way but for once we didn’t mind, it was too nice a day and we were happy just to be out in my precious, with the top down, and the smell of spring in the air.

Fresh Green Hawthorn leaves
Fresh Green Hawthorn leaves

The hedgerows are bursting out everywhere bright green hawthorn leaves, frothy cream blackthorn flowers on bare black stems, and field maple leaves which begin a pinky red before turning green as they mature.

blackthorn blossom, will be followed in the autumn by Sloes
blackthorn blossom, will be followed in the autumn by Sloes

 

 

Ahead of us in the queue was a brand new Bentley continental GT, sleek black , cream interior, I’m not often envious of what other people have but …sometimes… I think it would be nice to have beautiful things… but then they are only things.

 

We parked in a farmer’s field , £1.50 for all day, bargain! The smell of grass crushed by tyres and many feet, so redolent of spring. As we walked up the field towards the fair my mobile phone rang, Mum calling to say Dad was home from hospital, and relieved to be home, and I was able to stop worrying about how we would get him in the car to bring him home if he was still on hip precautions.

The scarecrows were better than ever this year, the theme I think was books or favourite stories, this one made me smile.The story

and the outcomeCinderella and her fella

May Day Bank Holiday Monday is not the best day to choose to visit the Scarecrow Festival, It’s Fair day so there were thousands of families many with small children wandering about this tiny village. The one thing My Dearest cannot abide is jostling crowds with whining children underfoot. As the scarecrow from the wizard of OZ would say, if I only had a brain I would have had more sense than take him there, from the moment we arrived I knew he needed to leave..

There be giants
There be giants

The Scarecrow Festival is celebrated every year over the week before and culminating with a Fair on the May day Bank Holiday, a theme is chosen, and individual households in the village make their own s are crows and display them in their gardens or at their doors where they can be seen by passers by. Prizes are awarded

The Dragon slayer
The Dragon slayer

There be giants too, and dragonslayers. Great constructions made to be carried about the streets by someone who stands inside the construction to make it appear a living thing, walking amongst us,

The Green Mam
The Green Mam

each made to represent a mythic person, St George, the Green Man, or the Sun perhaps?

Here Comes the sun
Here Comes the sun

An unexpected weekend break for Dad

a visit from two lovely young female paramedics carrying a bottle of Entanox, and a stretcher,

Yesterday I planned to go to The Scarecrow Festival at Wray, an annual event with a fair which takes place in a little village in the Lune Valley a few miles North of us. The sun was forecast to shine late afternoon so on our way there we stopped by to see my Mum and Dad.

Mum and Dad with my sister Amanda in Williamson Park 1958
Mum and Dad with my sister Amanda in Williamson Park 1958

Dad had a hip replacement 20 years ago and sometimes it pops out, he generally manages to pop it back in but not this time… so his afternoon included a painful and worrying time while we considered what to do, a 999 call, a visit from two lovely young female paramedics carrying a bottle of Entanox and a stretcher, a ride in an ambulance, a lengthy wait in A&E, an X-ray, a general anaesthetic, his hip relocated where it should be and a weekend break he hadn’t planned in the local hospital. My poor old Dad.

Same park bench 2013
Same park bench 2013

My Beloved and I then went for a walk in the sunshine, but only in the local park, Williamson Park; built and given to the citizens of Lancaster by a local Philanthropic Mill owner, it was laid out in the 1860’s to make work for the mill workers laid off due to the cotton famine during the American Civil War, an early form of poor relief.

The  Williamson Memorial
The Williamson Memorial

It stands high above the city and can be seen for miles, particularly the Williamson Memorial; a folly built by James Williamson, son of the philanthropist, in memory of his second wife Jessie, I believe the third wife spent her entire married life trying to get him to tear it down. Thank goodness she didn’t succeed.