I wish this photo was better, but…
I snapped this odd beauty a few years ago somewhere in ‘Burns’ country’. That’s the roadside signs’ name for a nicely forgotten nook of Ayrshire that’s thankfully failed to fully capitalise on its association with the national bard. But then I’m unfairly comparing it to the Lake District (where I live), a remorselessly tourist-centred place that wouldn’t hesitate to use William Wordsworth to endorse a euthanasia clinic or Beatrix Potter to sell locally-branded dildos.

I digress.
Now, most farmers don’t have much time for gardening of any kind, so that makes this delightful Lilliputian theme park in a farmyard such a surprise. Arranged a little like some kind of showground for Cindy dolls on ponies, we have a bizarre and folksy array of handmade and shop-made sculptures, pots, statuary, rubber bits and bobs, and – mysteriously – a neat pile of straw.
All studded across the kind of lush lawn that our friends in the South can only dream about.

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