Peaceful co-existence reigns at Bates Farm, Kimball’s Ice Cream Stand, an indispensable part of Old Home Day Celebrations

Last year it was all new to me. This year our family got to really feel the sense of community that Old Home Day brings out in all of Carlisle. This is not a top down performance. This is a day that people of this town work toward throughout the year. It is a culmination of private efforts to maintain a longstanding tradition of rural fair celebration thirty minutes from Boston. It is to my knowledge, the last completely privately funded Old Home Day left in New England - or so I read in the local paper, The Mosquito.

Carlisle, having roughly 1/3 the population of its sister Town of Concord, fosters a certain amount of recognition between residents when they come together. During this weekend especially, the Town Common is actually used by all those ready to enjoy a BBQ. The School becomes a Secondary focal point and Church Street serves as the connection between the two. Church Street is full of delicious aromas and foods, beautiful crafts, bee hive honey making exhibits and more - all manned by locals.

Whats missing? …a hard edge. An edge that can be found increasingly at similar functions in New England. Absent are the professional metal stands that pop up with identical fare of gadgets and gimmicks. Also absent is any reference to pop culture. It’s a bit of an oasis in suburbia that surprisingly draws all the kids of the town and even more beyond belief holds their attention. My daughters were thrilled to come together on the school plaza with friends, see the animal exhibits, watch the good natured town officials see if they can stay above the Dunking Tank and marvel at the entries for the Soapbox Derby. Everything for two days takes place in walking distance of each other lending further to its low key nature and warm appeal.

Many of us who enjoy this Town and it’s Old Home Day, did not grow up with its traditions. It’s our chance to step back in time and take our own children with us if only for two days.

One week to go. One week until we reclaim our weekends from soccer games, one week until all the goodbyes are said, one week until the most urgent question for my daughters of, “who will be their teacher next year”, is answered. One week until time opens up and we breath deep with the satisfaction that long hikes, spontaneous fun and cool water (or cold ocean water) awaits.

But these last few days crawl. I look at my calendar, packed with minutiae and excitedly glimpse the weeks beyond, for the most part, a blank slate. Time will elapse no doubt, but at the moment, my favorite Carlisle barn clock, permanently frozen at 9:35 a.m., underscores my impatience to leap forward to a point when a clock won’t be needed to keep track of my day.

Well, it is close to 100 degrees outside. Adjusting is proving difficult. Each year there are a series of days that seem to stretch across four seasons. Today’s heat could give mid-August a run for its money. A sun-covered porch, cooled by vine and stone seems the ideal refuge from the sun.

This particularly lovely home in Concord Center was once that of Cyrus Pierce circa 1850 and is today a private residence. Its exterior showcases an Early Gothic Revival Cottage style popular in the U.S. during the middle of the 19th century. The steep roof line, decorated gables, stone exterior and porch are all elements of this type of architecture.

One of the distinguishing characteristics of the homes in Concord is that they cannot be tied back to a single period. Development of the present-day Historic District did not occur in one brush stroke, but over generations. The architectural styles reflect the influences of the day, each representing a page in American history.

Most importantly, because the Town of Concord has had the foresight not to build over historic pre-existing structures, there are homes standing today in Concord that date back to the 17th century.

Author’s Ridge is a place oft written about. There are many who have reflected upon it with great insight and historical knowledge. Not presuming to have a similar immersion with regard to this hallowed ground, I wish only to share my observations noted from an early morning sojourn into Sleepy Hollow Cemetery.

The cemetery itself is not comprised of endless rows of headstones. The area looks as if it was carved into the hillsides, one arc sloping into another, dotted with burial markers. The narrow roads allow you to pass on foot or by car and weave in and out of Sleepy Hollow. After proceeding down what are well marked roadways toward Author’s Ridge, you’ll come to an actual end where the road simply stops and to your right is the Ridge itself, as shown in today’s picture.

At the peak of this slope are the family plots of Hawthorne, Alcott, Emerson and Thoreau. While the markers for the family units are of significant size, the individual headstones reflect the character of those who lived. Henry David Thoreau’s stone is perhaps just under a foot tall and simply reads “Henry”. I have heard it is often adorned with stones, sticks and the like, as it was this morning… a commemoration from today’s naturalists/conservationists to what they consider to be a founding father of the movement.

Memorial Day weekend has been everything one hopes it will be during those dark months of winter. We have experienced a brilliant, clear sky with warm temperatures and a steady breeze.

I love these three days, our summer sampler. My girls are in bathing suits, the sprinkler is on and their dolls are parked carefully in strollers under the apple tree. This would be a nice freeze frame for summer in total. And while I hope and intend to have much of July and August spent in this carefree manner, I also brace for the question of ….”what can we do now?”

We are in the home stretch, three or four weeks left until the end of the school year. This last month sometimes can feel like a condensed version of the past three months. There is a ceremony for everything, creating closure is definitely not an issue in the school lives of a five and seven year old. So, while we plunge forward for the final push I randomly decided to take a photo of something entirely unrelated to the buzz that surrounds us presently, but instead, makes me think of a soon-to-be lazy afternoon spent strawberry picking or hiking close to a nearby Concord farm.