A worn, weathered scarecrow stands tall in a rustic field, its straw-stuffed body rustling gently in the breeze. The sun casts long shadows behind it, highlighting its precarious balance amidst a tapestry of golden wheat and deep blue sky. A faded straw hat sits atop its head, and tattered overalls drape down to its knees, giving off an air of abandonment and quiet vigilance.
