*putting the "scare" in scarecrow.

I like to take pictures out of the windows of moving cars. You can capture a split second of pretty landscape that you'd otherwise miss as you careened by at 70 miles per hour.

Sunlight carving through heavy canopy ....



perfect horizon lines blurred by speed ...



manmade wonders with satisfying symmetry ...



and ... this.



I am so pissed that trespassing laws prevented me from capturing this at closer range. Five minutes from the Woodside, in the toniest, property-taxes-the-size-of-my-salary neighborhood, stands this scarecrow. A sentinel in the middle of an enviable garden. Stalwartly facing the perfectly trimmed grass and the properly maintained, family-friendly sidewalks. Dressed in a kicky hat, and someone's softened-by-wear flannels and denims. Holding a rifle.

This is the angriest bird spooker you have ever seen. From my on-the-way-back-to-work surveillance, I noted he has furiously drawn eyebrows and appears to be wearing an unusual amount of blush.

It's mostly funny, I guess, from a living-in-Alabama-can-make-you-lose-your-precious-mind standpoint, but it's also more than a little terrifying. Regardless of your race, gender, socioeconomic status, or sexual preference, I think we the people can agree that it is disconcerting to have someone POINT A GUN AT YOU.

Even if that person has produce to protect.