Country Love and Lore Scarecrow needs a new suit. What will the neighbours think, between our field and theirs it is barely five miles. You gesture in the direction of the crows pecking away, infuriated by our meek labour. They screech and flutter as if to warn us about renewal— we don’t replace things that want stitching, look at our coasters’ porous cork, almost falling apart with the shamrock’s third leaf watered down, scratched by the reckless hands of time…....
