For over forty years Peter Mitchell photographed scarecrows in the countryside surrounding his native Leeds.
The scarecrows he saw were an ungainly assortment but all showed a wonderful ambivalence towards the usual rules of style. They look at ease; they wear wool coats or anoraks, odd hats, old checked shirts; they like baling twine. Some are faintly sinister, some look drunk, some look oddly kind. They all stand proudly in their country.