Hawthorn Hill: Nothing like a day at the fair

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September 3, 2009

Hawthorn Hill: Nothing like a day at the fair

Anonymous The Cooperstown Crier Thu Sep 03, 2009, 10:26 AM EDT

Few experiences are as much fun and as rewarding as a day spent at a county fair.

I have very vivid memories of our trips to the Altamont fair many years ago to show our Brown Swiss cows Josephine and Molly. The passage of time has not erased the feel of Josephine’s velvety nose against my face.

The sweet smells of barn and farm still hold up the essential structure of my being. How could it have been so many years ago when as I sit here writing about it I can see and feel and smell it all as if time had simply vanished. It was in our cow barn at the fair that I witnessed my first birth of any kind. I remember feeling an indescribable sense of wonder and joy in the presence of such a miracle.

Unfortunately, it is all too easy to fall prey to a far too deeply felt sense of pessimism about the state of affairs in these United States.

Pick up any newspaper any day of the week and there is plenty to feel depressed and dispirited about.

A day at the fair can be a temporary antidote to despair. I came away from my day the Delaware County Fair last week with my flagging sprit buoyed and reminded once again of what can be so good about this wonderful country of ours.

I love everything about a fair, but I am most drawn to the livestock barns and judging.

The young 4-H kids dressed in their show whites, who work so hard to get their animals cleaned and clipped for the show ring, warm the heart. The judges do more than merely judge; they teach.

And it is wonderful to watch and listen as judges go down the line explaining to each competitor the reasons for the final placement. I taught for thirty years, but I never ever assumed that school is the only place to learn.

Formal schooling has its undeniable merits. But so does the kind of real world learning that takes place at county fairs.

I always have a lot of fun trying my hand at judging and more often than not come pretty close to the judges’ decisions, especially with respect to Brown Swiss cows and the various equestrian events.

As pleasurable as the judging venues can be, a walk down the aisles of the cow barns is like a walk down memory lane, an amble through those halcyon days of our agrarian past. Families set up camp right alongside their animals and it is not uncommon to see several generations of a farm family huddled around a makeshift meal table as if they were home taking a break from those back breaking chores that are the daily obligations of farm work. I came away with countless images swirling about in my mind’s eye. One sticks out.

A boy, about twelve, I reckoned, sat with his back against the wall while three cows rubbed their noses against his chest and chin. His smile said it all. It triggered every sense in my body.

It reminded me of how good life can really be. It obliterated, if just for a few moments, the ugly, self-destructive ills that claim so much of humanity’s time.

A day at the fair can, as Wordsworth says, be a spot of time that has a renovating virtue.