Comes late summer, come the country fairs. They appear along the branches of rural roads and byways like the very harvest fruits they display. They are perhaps the oldest village shows on earth, these local contests and exhibits of what man and earth and season can produce. But with their golden age clearly in the […]
The August 1982 Issue of Yankee Magazine.
Photo Credit : Porch, Mystic, Connecticut, an acrylic painting by Carol RaabComes late summer, come the country fairs. They appear along the branches of rural roads and byways like the very harvest fruits they display. They are perhaps the oldest village shows on earth, these local contests and exhibits of what man and earth and season can produce. But with their golden age clearly in the past by the first half of the 20th century, country fairs seemed forsaken by the American love affair with the city. And yet, as the 21st century approaches, the country fair is once more alive and well and multiplying.
The New England air in season fills with a special blend of sounds—of lowing cattle and squawking Ferris wheels, of barkers’ shrill badgering, of trot and gallop and clank of chain on pickup. And, oh, the smells from all those shed-covered, improvised kitchens offering wholesome and well-balanced country meals set before you with motherly smiles or enticing junk food served up with more worldly looks from hustlers’ eyes.
—“Fair Weather,” Traveler’s Journal, August 1982