photography: John Dolan
What better place to snuggle and stay warm than the back of a horse-drawn wagon as it wanders through a Candlelight Evening, held at the historic Farmer’s Museum. |
You can learn a lot from geese. Under the crisp blue sky of morning, hundreds of them crowd onto the spacious white crystal expanse of the early winter ice crust on Otsego Lake. They've got the long finger lake that rubs up against Cooperstown village all to themselves. On dry land in the village, so do we. Some friends and I are sitting in a cozy coffee shop, our synthetic down jackets draped over the chair backs, planning our day in a town wholly different from its hyperactive summertime self.
The usual Christmas drumroll has long been beating in our ears by this, the third week in December. With no guarantee of a white Christmas in the South, I decided to meet some New York friends in a classic wintry setting where I'd be sure to need gloves, a scarf, a heavy coat, and plenty of hot beverages. The village of Cooperstown and its annual Christmas Candlelight Evening was our destination. I would need all those warm clothes to wander the 1845 village replica, despite pots of steaming wassail at every turn.
photography: John Dolan
With their simple winter combo of warm blankets and steaming cups of wassail, these festivalgoers might as well be period actors. |
The drive from Albany introduces the surprising beauty of the central New York landscape. White ribbons of water—the bigger ones flowing, the smaller frozen—punctuate the forested hillsides beside the road. The tiny village of Cherry Valley (they call most towns here "villages," and it seems appropriate) pops up about a half hour before Cooperstown. There, the Main Street Studio exhibits photography, sculpture, and paintings from regional and New York City artists. A low-slung, intimate restaurant, Alex & Ika, promises diners locally produced, thoughtful dishes. But my friends are waiting, so I continue over the hills that will finally drop me on the shores of Otsego Lake. From my vantage point I look five miles down the water-filled valley, past a few bumpy shoreline knuckles to its terminus. Among the trees I spy rooftops and the telltale cupola of the grand Otesaga Resort Hotel of Cooperstown. The geese beat me here, and they're already lounging on the ice that fringes the lakeshore.
photography: John Dolan
Back on Main Street a fit-and-trim Santa welcomes children to his corner office for free gift-receiving consultations. |
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Cooperstown is the Norman Rockwell of Christmas villages. 
