A prostitute poses provocatively on stone steps; beneath her, Moulin Rouge girls throw long, fishnet legs skywards; Toulouse Lautrec looks on and the cast of Allo Allo lurks.

In a festival of scarecrows - which over the last decade has thrown a sleepy Lune village on to a national stage - this sensational French tableau is causing a storm.

A hamlet terrace has been transformed into a caf scene. All around are lifelike characters, the product of months of clandestine creation.

Villagers have become undercover operation specialists. Neighbours beaver secretly to produce masterpieces, only unveiled on the grand opening night of Wray Scarecrow Festival.

When artist David Hartnup saw a bizarre collection of mad mannequin scarecrows in a Pyrenees mountain village, he figured a similar line up might help sell his village's annual fair.

It struggled to make a couple of hundred quid, yet was vital for the survival of the institute. Anything to heighten profile, thought David.

"The first year it happened in Wray, I didn't know how it would work, or if the village would respond," he explained. "Just about everyone took part. A population of about 340 produced 180 scarecrows. Most houses had made one."

As David toured the picture-postcard village, looking at raw efforts scratched from attic forays, he almost wept with relief and jubilation. The whole community had taken his brainchild to their hearts.

Designs and structures have revolutionised since then. Ingenuity knows no bounds. David says it has to plateau out sometime, but it hasn't happened yet.

Last year, Wray Scarecrow Festival attracted 40,000 visitors. They come by busloads from as far away as the south coast, transfixed by 14ft high effigies, some of which, alarmingly, walk.

A 50-seater coach has rolled in from Crez-Neuville, north of the Loire Valley - in the front seat was a sort-of scarecrow masquerading as a 10ft wine bottle Curvee du Jumelage 2003. It is the first time Wray's French twin town has sent over a contingent for the fair.

David says they have been bowled over.

This year's themes include 007, All Things Bright and Beautiful and French Connections. In reality, anything goes. Saddam Hussein has predictably sneaked in and can be seen buying a house from Tony Blair. George Bush is in evidence too.

"We try not to get too political, but politics do creep through, but usually it's funny. We had John Major in a coffin one year.

"It's very humbling to see just how much trouble people put themselves to," confessed David, pointing to a tableau of budding musicians Status Crow - who were "rooking all over the world".

Last of the Summer Wine characters can be seen. Outside the church a large vicar is clinging to the railings, a polythene bag over his head to shield him from the morning's rain.

"Oh dear," smiles David wryly, "looks a bit strange. Didn't a politician die like that!"

David has lived in Wray for 30 years. The former Kendal High School and Lancaster Girls Grammar School art teacher had a spell in London and longed to get back north. In Wray he found what he had been yearning for and quickly became ensnared by the close-knit community.

"When I came back from my holiday in the Pyrenees and suggested a scarecrow festival people probably thought I was mad, but about ten offered to help me get it off the ground. We now have an organising committee of 30."

David takes a break in the institute, Wray's cash-hungry hub, built in 1923. The festival has not only secured its future, to the tune of £16,000 a year, but has helped every other organisation in the village.

"We make about £30,000 a year. The money is shared out. People take it in turns to run refreshments here and keep the proceeds - WI one day, the school another and so it goes on.

"People plug away quietly during the winter months. Everyone keeps quiet until the opening day. Judging always happens on the Tuesday, so if the weather is bad we try to protect them until then.

"They've come on such a long way since the early days. Many are made with papier-mch now and coated in yacht varnish. They are works of art in their own right."

He had thought Wray Scarecrow Festival would be a zany one-off. After a first resounding success he gave it five years. It continues to grow from strength to strength.

"The first year we put up about ten posters. A guy from Granada was riding through Wray on a motorbike and spotted it. We got a minute's TV slot and after that were flooded with media interest."

Two years later Blue Peter steamrolled in. A BBC lorry collected 15 scarecrows and put them up in the London Blue Peter garden.

Only after foot-and-mouth, when the event was cancelled, have organisers had to consider advertising.

"We were the first, you see," said David. "No one else in the country was doing scarecrow festivals when we started. The publicity was enormous.

"Others have jumped on the bandwagon and there are about six now, including Kettlewell. Initially they pretended it was their own idea, but have since confessed to stealing it from us.

"I don't mind others doing it, just as long as it isn't too close to us.

"At the end of the day, we have got the perfect place. Wray is a picture-postcard village."

Wray Scarecrow Festival started on April 26 and ran until May 6.

May 8, 2003 16:00