Not only are small farms beginning to thrive again, but some farms have found new ways of perpetuating New England’s agricultural tradition. Every state in New England now has at least one—and often more—farming museum or working farm that is open to the public. Generations who grew up in an urban culture get a small taste of farming first-hand. Such farms offer multidimensional experiences that combine factual information with sensory memories.

My own town, for instance, preserved one lovely farm, which is now municipal land. It features a house, a barn, rolling meadows, and a strong whiff of the past. The town has formed a committee to explore how best to utilize this asset. In the meantime, families have sledding parties there in winter and stroll on the land in spring. Younger generations are given a glimpse of a slower, quieter life that connects with the natural world.

Another local farm has taken this idea a step further. It offers what I call “Farm Camp,” afterschool and summer programs where children learn about farming through direct participation. These kids don’t learn only through lectures and exhibits; they get in and mess around. They pet, they feed, they groom, they make decisions. Kid-size tools allow them to muck out stalls, haul water, and do numerous other traditional farm chores.

The kids are learning the pleasures and perils of animals, the care that they require, and the real daily-ness of farming. Not only are the campers having a great time—their enthusiasm is visible—but they are absorbing the sights, sounds, and scents of rural life. These agricultural details are becoming part of who they are. In twenty years, they may not consciously remember washing a pig. They may not even know why each spring they feel compelled to buy manure for their gardens instead of powdered fertilizer. But I have no doubt that many will have gardens—and perhaps even a chicken or two.