In this video I explored Nagoro Scarecrow Village in Japan — one of the most remote villages in the entire country. It’s extremely hard to reach, tucked away deep in the mountains of the Iya Valley on Shikoku, the smallest of Japan’s four main islands.
This village has only 25 human residents, but over 350 life-sized scarecrows — and what’s shocking is that each scarecrow represents a person who once lived there. All of them were made by one woman: Ayano Tsukimi.
When I arrived, there wasn’t a single living soul. No people, no noise… nothing. I was welcomed by the scarecrows. And they looked so real that I actually got scared — genuinely scared — like never before.
Some were standing in the fields farming, some were fishing, some riding bicycles, chopping wood, or sitting in groups as if having conversations. But not one of them was alive. The entire village had a haunting, almost surreal atmosphere. Even in broad daylight, it felt eerie and unsettling.
I kept walking around, hoping to find someone — anyone. But there were no humans. No cafés, no restaurants, no shops. Just me and hundreds of scarecrows. And the scariest part? I couldn’t leave. The village is so isolated that only two buses come per day — one in the morning and one in the evening. And even those are usually empty. If you miss it, you’re stuck.
I started filming and explaining everything — how Ayano Tsukimi created all these scarecrows, the story behind them, and the meaning of each one. I entered a large gymnasium filled with over 100 scarecrows, and a community hall packed with more — all arranged like people in a meeting. But again, no humans. Just silence and those lifelike figures. I kept saying, “There’s no one here. I need to leave. I can’t stay here any longer.”
And then suddenly… I saw someone.
A woman wearing traditional Japanese farmer clothes and a mask. Jokingly, I said, “Let’s ask her about Ayano Tsukimi — the one and only scarecrow artist, famous all around the world. Maybe she’s a friend.”
So I approached her and asked… and the reply I got left me speechless.
She wasn’t Ayano Tsukimi’s friend.
She was Ayano Tsukimi herself.
She pulled down her mask and revealed her face — and I was completely shocked.
We ended up having a short conversation about the scarecrows, her story, and her work. It was one of the most haunting, surreal, yet unforgettable experiences of my travels.
Credit to : Travel with AK