Claremont Scarecrow Party, Three: Rojo Mujer

 

"All winter through I bow my head
beneath the driving rain;
the North Wind powders me with snow
and blows me black again;
at midnight 'neath a maze of stars
I flame with glittering rime,
and stand above the stubble, stiff
as mail at morning-prime..."

(The Scarecrow, Walter de la Mare)

Odd, I guess, to combine a dia de los muertos themed scarecrow with the words of an English poet. Reflection? It's a mixed up world we are living in right now, but there is one thing I can still count on, the satisfaction of a good ride. The scarecrow hunt continues;  you can find them by bike.