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The Morning of the Buttermilk Scarecrow Sky
The tall top-hatted scarecrow walks his wide-stanced walk along the shoulder of the gray roadway to my right, his unnaturally long arms stretched wide to catch the wind.
Protruding from his sleeves are bouquets of straw substituting for hands, and his topcoat and trousers are blousing in the breeze.
This fairy-tale mirage seems somehow normal once I notice that, as I draw nearer, the scarecrow is silhouetted against a remarkably glossy buttermilk sky, the likes of which I have not seen since childhood. The clouds gleam and march in spotted lockstep, and I may as well be observing a scene from some Maxfield Parrish/Hoagy Carmichael version of The Wonderful Wizard of Oz.
The sky is so vivid this morning, the scarecrow so alive, that, as I pass by, I realize that this scene will etch its way into my memory. I’ll never have to see the buttermilk scarecrow again, I’ll never even need to try and explain how it can be that a fictitious creature like this can be sauntering along on its merry way to…where? That’s because the snapshot has been taken and stored for further examination.
The rest is rumination and storytelling
© Jim Reed 2015 A.D.