When we moved here to Pennsylvania, we couldn’t believe that every single weekend in the fall boasted about a different kind of festival for the family. Apple festivals, pumpkin festivals, craft festivals, farm festivals, Halloween festivals, yarn festivals, corn festivals, hay festivals. . .
Every county in the land had their own festival.
Every weekend, we took our young children to a different festival. It seemed strange, this new town.
Slowly, I began to enjoy myself. These festivals always involved some kind of feasting (true to the etymology of the word: festival, to feast), animals to pet and observe, crafts to purchase, local products to try, and folks to see.
This is what we do. We are festive. We enjoy festivities. It’s joyous! It’s exuberant! It’s what we value: community, land, working with our hands, local produce. We celebrate it all!
Now, after living here so long, it’s not strange anymore. It’s a glorious, small town kind of thing. I’ll see you at the festival today. I’ll eat apple dumplings and go on the hayride. I’ll pet the animals. I’ll visit with you and try your jam and apple butter.
I hope your town has some fall festivals this weekend.