This week I gave my scarecrow, Fantastic Vern, a new shirt and overalls. He looks spiffy, but I plan to give him a facial in a few weeks. Vern has been my companion in the vegetable garden for several years. I grew up watching The Wizard of Oz on television and until this week never gave much thought on how they came into common use. (It’s okay if you want to hum a few bars of “If I Only Had A Brain.”)
A quick internet search would lead one to think they are mostly decorative (check Pinterest) but their original use was to prevent crows and other birds from eating newly planted or freshly sprouted garden seeds.
My research indicates that scarecrows have been in use a long time and all over the world. The oldest surviving book in Japan, written in the year 712, mentions one. Scarecrows have featured prominently in short stories, novels, comic books, television and film. They have appeared in music performed by John Cougar Mellencamp, Pink Floyd, Melissa Ethridge, XTC, and Michael Jackson. They were in widespread use in the UK, where names vary by location. A few of my favorites: Mawkin (Sussex), Tattie Bogal (Isle of Skye and Scotland), Gallybagger (Isle of Wight), and Hodmeded (Berkshire).
Traditional construction is to tie shirt sleeves and pants legs shut and create a dummy body with straw, then attach it to a wooden cross. I chose to forego this method since eventually hay will rot and stink. Initially I stuffed Vern with empty plastic milk jugs and soda bottles of various sizes. Thunderstorms would rearrange him, so I had to redistribute his stuffing several times. Then I happened onto a marvelous molded mannequin for sale in a local thrift store. The mannequin was tough to get home. Since his joints did not bend, he would not fit in my car’s back seat or small trunk. I got more than a few curious looks as I drove home with a naked plastic headless body standing in my passenger seat with his upper half extending through the open sunroof. Plastic Man fit into the farm clothes fine, but I had to amputate a few toes to force his feet into lace-up workboots. His head is a Styrofoam wig holder covered with burlap and then coated with exterior grade Modge Podge, an all-in-one glue and sealer. His manly hands are leather work gloves that I sewed onto the shirt sleeve with nylon fishing filament.
Do scarecrows really work? Well, I cannot say if they repel seed-eating crows since I start most of my garden with transplants rather than seeds. They do NOT repel deer, rabbits or woodchucks. A farmer friend tells me that birds become accustomed to any inanimate object and recommends mylar balloons tied to the scarecrow or aluminum foil fringe on the clothing to mimic movement. The birds in the Mary Snoddy garden may be immune to Vern, but on several occasions I have been startled by his presence, thinking that I had a garden visitor.
Gardening should be enjoyable. Fantastic Vern makes me smile
Fantastic Vern, guarding the asparagus.