10 Things To Do in Connecticut This Fall (No Pressure)

Remember in years past when everyone feared missing out on summer - that mythical, shimmering, relaxed yet activity-packed, summery summer? That era is over; summer has lost its FOMO-inducing glow. Fall has taken over.

Now, I love fall. (Except for the part where I turn a year older and the other part where I have to rake my lawn.) But lately, fall - or rather, the hype surrounding it - has gotten out of hand. These days, we can't just appreciate the foliage and buy a new sweater, we have to hoard sickly-sweet orange candles, expertly style a nursery full of mums on our front steps, sprinkle everything with pumpkin spice (which, come on people, is nutmeg and cinnamon, doesn't that sound a thousand times more appetizing anyway?), and go apple-picking in leather boots even though it's still 75 degrees out. And that's before we even get to Halloween, and the whole thing really goes into full faux-spider-web-covered overdrive. (It is interesting that Thanksgiving doesn't factor into the autumnal craziness too much; could it be because the holiday has mostly resisted commercialization?) The Fall Industrial Complex is real, and the pressure is intense.

And in Connecticut, the seasonal mania is especially strong, because while summer weather lasts for three months or more in a good year, fall weather - that perfect, crisp-but-not-cold, sunny, leaf-saturated, booties and scarf weather - lasts about two weeks. (Unless we get one bad storm in September or early October and skip straight from summer to snow.) Fall is limited edition, and limited edition products always come with especially frenzied promotion.

This year, the fall craziness began weeks ago, weather and the calendar date be damned, but now it's picking up the pace as a few signs of actual autumn have appeared. It's getting cooler overnight, pumpkins have started popping up at farm stands, and last week, in Litchfield County, I saw not only some orange-tinged branches but an entire grove of bright red trees.

So I thought I'd write a list. These fall suggestions, all of which I have done recently or hope to do soon, are ways to take advantage of the season without losing your mind over it. In other words, you could put on a $150 flannel shirt and Instagram these activities while jumping in a leaf pile, but you don't have to.

Eat all the apples.

I'm probably not going to be picking apples this year (and I'm definitely not going to be doing it while dressed like a fashion blogger) but I will certainly stop by some farm stores and grab some local apples and cider. (In fact, I already have the apples, from Scott's Yankee Farmer in East Lyme. They'll be going into my apple cake for Rosh HaShanah. The cider will come later.) The Connecticut Department of Agriculture has a listing of farm stores and stands by county.

Check a farm winery off the list.

I love visiting Connecticut wineries, both because they tend to be gorgeous and because, well, they have wine. And ever since first I stopped at the adorable farm market at Holmberg Orchards in Gales Ferry, I've wanted to try their wines. Unlike most local wineries, Holmberg produces mostly fruit wines and ciders. I've never gotten into these - I've always been strictly a red wine person - but if I'm ever going to like them, it will be on a pretty Connecticut farm in the fall. They're open for tastings Saturdays and Sundays from 12:00 p.m. to 5:00 p.m. through October.

Hike amongst the leaves.

I have a long list of Connecticut attractions I intend to get to someday, and not a few of them are hikes. Two in particular have been on the list for years and, more to the point, seem like particularly good bets for capturing fall foliage. (Because as much as I hate the whole leaf-peeping thing, I can't stop myself from trying to get some good leaf pics each year.) They are Mount Tom State Park in Litchfield, and Mohawk Mountain State Park in Cornwall and Goshen. Both involve towers. Hopefully I'll get to one; maybe I'll manage to get to both. But even if I have to stick to parks closer to me, I'm sure I'll spend at least a little time this fall in the colorful outdoors.

Go to a country fair or festival.

Growing up in Westport, fall was synonymous with the Apple Festival, which brought decadent food, crafts, student dance recitals, and campaigning politicians together in our local high school. The Apple Fest, as we called it, is no more, but other fall fairs and festivals live on elsewhere throughout the state. If you've never been to a traditional agricultural fair, the kind with animal barns, rides, tractor pulls, and fried dough, this is a must. Most of Connecticut's fairs end in late summer, but three take place in the fall: The Durham Fair, which runs from September 21 through 24 (here's my post on my visit to the Durham Fair last year); the Harwinton Fair, October 6, 7, and 8; and the Portland Fair, also October 6, 7, and 8. There are also festivals all over Connecticut, with themes ranging from apples to pumpkins to oysters to foliage to...well, just search for one near you, or by date, on ctvisit.com.

Browse in a garden store.

Last fall, I did the whole mums on the front steps thing. This year, because I plan to be traveling as much as possible, I might not. However, I do plan to go to to one or two of Connecticut's awesome garden stores (garden centers? nurseries? you know, the ones that aren't just a place to buy mulch and bulbs, but an experience) to take in the atmosphere and gaze at all the seasonal plants and gifts. I'm fond of Smith's Acres, but one of my other favorites, Salem Herbfarm, closed two years ago, so maybe this year I'll find a new favorite. (Any suggestions? Comment below!)

Get the beach to yourself.

Though summer is my favorite season, summer's favorite activity is my favorite activity to do in the fall. I avoid beaches as much as possible between Memorial Day and Labor Day, but as soon as they're FREE, nearly deserted, and neither too sticky nor too cold, I'm back. This fall, I'm sure I'll hit some favorites close to home, like Rocky Neck State Park in East Lyme, Hammonasset Beach State Park in Madison, Ocean Beach Park in New London, and Waterford Beach Park. But I'd also like to go back to Cove Island Park if I'm in the Stamford area, and maybe discover some new beaches, if there are any I haven't found yet.

Sneak in some day or weekend trips.

I know, I know, this isn't a something to do in Connecticut. But if you live here, this is the season to take advantage of living in a wonderful place that's also very close to many other wonderful places which happen to be crowded in summer and freezing (or nearly shut down) in winter. Among the places I'd like to return to are Long Island's east end, just a ferry ride away from New London; some Hudson Valley towns like Saugerties and Catskill; Providence; and Block Island. Some I haven't been to yet that I hope I can squeeze in are Boston's Harbor Islands; City Island, NY; and perhaps some new-to-me small towns in New Hampshire or Maine.

Stroll around some downtowns.

This is as simple as it gets, but Connecticut is packed with extremely pretty towns and historic cities that really come to life when you take the time to explore them on foot. And there's something special about walking around a town green or along an old-fashioned Main Street when it's cool enough to order a warm drink, but not too cold to consume it outside. I hope I have time to add some more City Walks and Town Center Strolls to the blog this season. I'd like to get back to Pawcatuck, New Milford, and Hartford, among many others.

Wander through a historic cemetery.

For some reason, I usually find myself in old cemeteries in summer, sweating and fighting off mosquitoes, or in winter, unable to read headstones covered in snow. (See: my trips to the Old Norwichtown Cemetery in Norwich and Cedar Hill Cemetery in Hartford.) But autumn is a far superior time to lose yourself in the details of the dead. It's a way to get that Halloween-y vibe without having to make a costume or go to a party with dry ice in the punch. Plus, weather-wise, fall is a much more comfortable time to go searching for notable graves in venerable little burial grounds or exploring some of the larger, park-like cemeteries built as serene public spaces for the living as well as final resting places for the deceased. Some particularly haunting options (among many) are Griswold's Kinne Cemetery, Bridgeport's Mountain Grove Cemetery, and Hartford's Ancient Burying Ground, but often, in New England especially, the best cemetery is the one you discover unintentionally by the side of the road.

Stretch out your summer.

Labor Day, the start of the school year, and the crickets chirping might make you feel like summer is over and gone. But many seasonal businesses stay open well into October - and sometimes beyond - and lots of stereotypically "summer" activities are just as enjoyable in the fall. Many of Connecticut's ice cream stands, for instance, keep serving frozen treats past whatever date you might imagine is your last chance to indulge. Lobster shacks, too, usually stay open, if with limited hours, into the fall. Captain Scott's Lobster Deck and Fred's Shanty in New London and Abbott's and Ford's in Noank stay open into October. Farmers' Markets get the most attention when their tables are overflowing with summer berries, but in addition to the larger markets that are open (usually indoors) year-round, regular smaller markets often extend their season into the fall. The Department of Agriculture provides a list of markets with dates, and there's almost certainly one open in September or October near wherever you may be going. Recently I got into a conversation about picnics, and realized they're also a summer staple that doesn't have to end in August. For a classy picnic option, grab some food at the Marketplace at Guilford Food Center in Guilford and eat on a bench on the town green. For an old-fashioned, rustic experience, get lunch at Heirloom Market at Comstock Ferre and eat at Wethersfield Cove. And for cheesy fun and a huge variety of food choices, shop at Stew Leonard's in Norwalk, Danbury, or Newington. Outdoor eating options for those towns include two spots that have been on my Connecticut to-do list for years, Calf Pasture Beach in Norwalk, and Tarrywile Park in Danbury. As for Newington, any excuse to go to the park with America's smallest natural waterfall, right? 

On the Tidal Marsh Trail

I first read about North Haven's Tidal Marsh Trail over a year ago when Peter Marteka visited this humble path on the bank Quinnipiac for his Hartford Courant column. "I'm totally going to go there," I said to myself. And I put it on my list. And then I didn't go. And then I continued to not go. Until last week, when, surprised with a day that wasn't rainy, freezing, or packed with work, I finally got myself in my car and drove myself down 95 and up 91 and around behind the Target in that bland sprawl of commercial suburbia off exit 9.

Connecticut does many things well, and one of them is hiding reminders of the power of nature in places you'd never think to look for them. You can't even really see a trailhead from the parking lot behind the Target, but look carefully and you will see a sign. Walk towards it, and you'll find yourself on a little dirt track - in most places, just big enough to walk single-file - between a subtly lush marshy landscape and a dense tangle of trees busy consuming remnants of human life like old railroad tracks and cement bridges.

As you walk, you start out high on the river bank, peering down at the rippling blue water and muddy little red beaches scattered with fallen trees. And then at some point you notice the tall grasses are at eye level, and you are immersed in green.

You're never far from human habitation here. There are buildings clearly visible across the river, trains whistling in the distance, and, of course, the knowledge that Target is just minutes behind you. (The trail, a relatively straight and mostly flat line, is supposedly half a mile long but feels slightly longer.) Still, this stretch of watery woods seems quite wild. Trees twist themselves around each other and bend at strange angles, and branches braid themselves into ropes. The path is crossed by fallen trees, and more tilted and uprooted trunks can be seen in the distance.

The Tidal Marsh Trail, like many of the other smaller trails I've posted about here (Bethel's Enchanted Trail Boardwalk and Salem's Big Brook Gorge Preserve come to mind) is not the most exciting or visually striking of outdoor activities. Connecticut has dozens - probably hundreds - of spots that are more remote, more physically challenging, and more beautiful. But if you're near North Haven and you want a quick respite from everyday life, then this hidden world where the trees meet  the water is everything you need.

The Litchfield Daffodils, and the Truth About Spring

Here's the thing about spring in New England. It's the worst season to live here, and the least enjoyable time to visit. It's cold, damp, unpredictable, and hard impossible to dress for. Plus, it almost always lingers for far too long, dragging winter into summer and casting a grey pall over the landscape with its creeping fog and rain.

People will pretend that spring is wonderful, because about once every three weeks, if you're lucky enough to be outdoors between 3:30 and 4:45, it gets almost warm enough to go without a jacket. These people are delusional, or selling you something. Unless you're five, and enjoy jumping in mud puddles, spring is miserable.

However, every dark cloud that threatens to ruin your plans with a sudden downpour has a silver lining or two. In the spring in Connecticut, one of these is the Litchfield Daffodils, a.k.a. the Laurel Ridge Narcissus Plantings.

This roadside attraction comes alive every year in April and May. Since 1941, when Remy and Virginia Morosani first planted thousands of bulbs in their rocky pasture, the flowers have spread to cover fifteen acres of land. They range from bright yellow and orange to peach and delicate white, and they grow in clusters on the hillsides, in the little valleys, and on an island in the center of a pond. The overall effect is like the backdrop of a fairy tale set in that mythical New England springtime, where everything is warm and bright and new.

There is no fee to see the daffodils, and no parking lot. (Though there are rules.) This year, it seems the low-key attraction is becoming more popular than ever before, due either to increased marketing efforts or simply the undeniable Instagram appeal of this abundant display of nature.

In a month or two, the weather will be livable for human beings again and I won't be shivering and covered in mud. (I hope.) But until then, I can at least be inspired by fleeting bursts of beauty, like these fragile blooms that somehow manage to thrive in this dispiriting season.

Back On the List: the Papermill Trail

Built c. 1865, the Cooper Paper Mill manufactured straw board until 1890. The process involved turning straw from local farms into a type of paper tough enough to be made into boxes, which were used to ship Connecticut-made products far beyond our little state. What remains of the mill now can be seen near one of the trailheads of the Papermill Trail in Madison, a blue-blazed loop through woods maintained by the Madison Land Conservation Trust. Beside the Hammonasset River lie the mill's fieldstone ruins. Water rushes over an abandoned dam, and iron rods protrude from the earth, a spiky reminder that this place, so quiet on a cold spring day, was not always so still.

The Papermill Trail had been on my list of local places to visit for ages, but then, at some point, I removed it. I guess I decided for some reason that it wouldn't be all that interesting. But when I happened to be nearby recently, I figured I might as well find the trail* and check it out.

And I discovered, as I have many times before, a surprisingly lovely pocket of natural beauty hidden just off the busy roads I'd unthinkingly driven on for years. A few delicate, papery leaves clung to the bare spring trees. Soft moss spread over the boulders on the hills. The trail was a worn, narrow path that sometimes climbed up or down on tree-root stairs.

I didn't have the time to walk more than a short distance from the road on this trip, but I've added the Papermill Trail to my list again. I'll go back some day when the harsh cold of spring has passed. Next time, I'll walk the rest of the trail to see what other surprises await at the spots on the map marked "stonewall" and "pool" and "stream." (When I do, it will be on my Instagram.)

*About finding this place: like so many of Connecticut's lesser-known attractions, this one seems to have been designed to be as easy to miss as possible. The trailhead where the mill ruins are located is on Fawn Brook Circle, just off Green Hill Road. Look to your right as soon as you turn onto Fawn Brook Circle and you'll (hopefully) spot a tiny wooden sign and a minuscule arrow attached to a tree, just above the height you'd expect to find signage. The small parking area, which has none of the usual identifying features of a parking area, is located just past the tree.

Bluff Point State Park

On January 1, 2016, a day that feels like last week and also a lifetime ago, I went on a First Day Hike in Massachusetts. This year, Connecticut had some scheduled First Day Hikes that sounded tempting, but I chose to take the concept of the New Year's Day walk and leave the group tour aspect, and instead go on my own hike at a local spot I hadn't been to in years: Bluff Point State Park and Coastal Reserve in Groton.

Somehow, Bluff Point has escaped this blog until now. But it's a hike (ok, fine, more like a walk) that I'm very fond of. This roughly 3.6-mile loop through what DEEP calls "the last remaining significant piece of undeveloped land along the Connecticut coastline" is a chance to surround yourself with what I think of as three distinct environments. The first is classic Connecticut shoreline, with salt marshes and shell-strewn sand and water that changes colors like a mood ring. The second is an almost desert-like world where trees twist into stunted shapes and leaves stay brown underfoot even when winter has turned other landscapes grey. And the third is an old New England forest, where the rectangular foundation of the farmhouse John Winthrop Jr. (yes, that John Winthrop Jr.) built in 1648 still lurks below ground level, and stone walls run for miles like the complex gates of lost cities, and large boulders stand alone in little clearings, as if the woods wanted to give them space.

At the bluff that forms this protected peninsula's southern tip, the inland forest trail and the flatter coastal road converge. Here, several small, rocky paths branch off from the main route and lead you to a spectacular view. Standing above the Sound, if you face the right direction and ignore the other humans and dogs gathered on the rocks, you can imagine for a moment that you've reached the end of the world. And I guess if the end of the world is as beautiful as Bluff Point, I feel a little bit less afraid about its arrival.

Cove Island Park

I grew up 18 minutes from Cove Island Park (yes I just checked on Google Maps) and I'd never even heard of it until this year. I wasted many hours of my childhood at the Stamford Mall (which hilariously still insists on calling itself the Stamford Town Center), just 8 minutes from Cove Island Park, but I never knew that this dramatic bit of coastline was right there all this time.

I have, however, spent a lot of time at a lot of other Connecticut beaches, so I didn't expect that this 83-acre municipal park would strike me as such an unusual spot. It's not as if the rest of the state isn't full of woods, mill ruins, green open spaces, and perfectly curved strips of sand. But here, all these elements overlap. Marsh grasses and massive rock formations exist alongside shell-strewn beaches, and pure soft sand sprouts unexpected trees. Gracefully grand houses loom in the distance, and hints of the neighborhood's manufacturing days coexist with trappings of leisure: picnic tables and grills, a marina, and a paved walking and biking loop.

Now I live at the opposite end of southern Connecticut, so although I want to go back already, I can't exactly go explore Cove Island on a whim. But if you live close by, or even if you're just passing through, don't neglect this place as long as I did. And if it's not completely obvious, don't wait until summer; go in the off-season, when visitors are few and far between, and entry is free.