You could call them the Clay Ladies.
The ancestors made them by the tens, if not hundreds, of thousands: little naked women, poised on pointed toes to stand calf-deep in the good tilled soil of our gardens and fields.
We've been doing this since the end of the last Ice Age, and we still do. No one needs to be told why we put them there.
The best magic explains itself.
There they stand, graciously bestowing their gift of fruitfulness, looking as if they are rising from the Earth.
They are Earth itself, formlessness rising into form. The goddess rising from Earth was a minor (but not uncommon) motif in ancient Greek art, and rightly so. The furrow parts: the goddess is born.