A narrow gravel road off Route 235 in Union, edged by rolling green pastures and hayfields, rises above Round Pond and leads unassumingly to Vicki and Herb Harriman’s historic farmhouse. Set in the heart of the area chronicled by Ben Ames Williams in his historic novel “Come Spring,” the land is the site of the homestead of Colonist and farmer Jess Robbins, a character in the book who actually lived there.

Although the scene probably looks dramatically different from when Robbins laid eyes on it 200 years ago, the sense of dependence on the earth is still prevalent at Come Spring Farm.

Flower beds and ornamental trees and shrubs frame the approach to the Harrimans’ white clapboard farmhouse. Apples and pears fall from trees with a hollow thud and roll into the arena where Vicki’s Morgan mare, Robbin, and her foal, Abigail, await a sweet midmorning snack.

The Harriman farmhouse is attached to several other buildings, in typical “big house, little house, back house, barn” architecture. Like many New Englanders who live in old homes, the Harrimans have found they are torn between enjoying the house’s heritage and modernizing it to meet their needs and tastes.

“The house is my pride and joy, a castle to both of us, despite its constant need for attention,” Vicki Harriman said recently. “Since we’ve lived here, we’ve totally renovated the inside of the house once, and now — I can’t believe it — we’re starting the second round.”

The house stands several hundred feet from the site of Jess Robbins’ original homestead, according to Herb Harriman. A stone outcropping, indicating the foundation of that Colonial home, and a nearby dug spring are the only reminders of the building’s existence. The current farmhouse dates back to the early 1850s. Like many old homesteads, pieces of the house’s history and the lives of those who lived there have emerged over time.

“During one of the renovation projects,” Vicki Harriman said, “Herbie found Civil War newspapers stuffed between the lathes for insulation.

“This summer, while the masons were rebuilding the chimney, they discovered an old bullet lodged between the bricks and wall on the second floor. Digging through the attic and lots of sheds here, we’ve found the old wooden taps [for maple sugaring] that had `Robbins’ engraved in them.”

The last Robbins to live in the house was George Robbins, who, the Harrimans believe, lived there around the turn of the century.

“He was the last to live here, and in fact, his ghost is still here,” Vicki Harriman said matter-of-factly. “He’s a nice ghost. I used to be here alone a lot after the children had grown up. I’d be doing something in the house, and I’d just feel this presence in the house.”

The Harriman home has a distinct feeling of welcome. A cool, blue dining room, with light blue walls and blue-and-white checkered valances over each window, is offset by the warm, down-home smell of blueberry muffins in the oven and fresh coffee brewing. Restored, wide, pine board flooring is found in several rooms, held securely in place with the original handmade, square-headed nails. The old floors creak and moan in places, testimony to years of traffic.

Like many old homes, the farmhouse is made up of rooms joined by six-paneled doors, short hallways and steep staircases. To the visitor, this presents a complicated labyrinth, which ultimately deposits one by the front door.

The house is uncluttered and has a refreshing simplicity, being relatively unadorned. The most prominent objects are those that have for the Harrimans a strong connection to beloved members of their family and their past: An antique spinning wheel nearly 100 years old, brought from a farmhouse where Vicki Harriman lived in Nova Scotia, stands beneath a sunny upstairs window; a painting of the farm done 20 years ago by Herb Harriman’s stepfather hangs in the dining room; antique beds made at nearby South Hope Manufacturing Co., passed down through Herb Harriman’s family, are found in the two upstairs bedrooms; a desk of distinctive Victorian design that was obtained by his father during his tenure at Bradford Junior College in Haverhill, Mass., is the centerpiece in an upstairs office.

On an antique buffet in the dining room stands a statue of Vicki Harriman’s mother as a child. Holding a lamb, the figurine is glazed with soft pastels, and seems to capture perfectly a child’s innocence. It is one of only a handful of precious family mementos that Vicki Harriman draws attention to during a tour of her home.

The Harrimans will soon begin renovations on the part of their home that faces Round Pond. Removing an inside wall in their living room will expose windows and will grant them a view of the placid pond from inside their home. They plan to add more windows and a patio that will provide a transition from their indoor living space to the outdoors, where Harriman spends a lot of time working in his sawmill and Vicki Harriman spends time tending her Morgan horses and the farm’s Hereford beef critters.

“We ponder how we’re going to do the renovations so we don’t really change the outside looks of the house so much,” Vicki Harriman said. “The house has changed considerably over time.”

Just as the interior and exterior of the house have changed through the years because of the needs of the people living there, the farm also has changed.

From what the Harrimans have determined from examining their land, researching deeds and talking to old-timers, Come Spring Farm has evolved from pristine pine forest to an apple orchard, to a poultry farm to the current diversified family farm.

And for the Harrimans, home extends beyond the farmhouse.

“It’s a privilege to live here,” Vicki Harriman said. “We’re stewards of the land. Herbie and I have worked hard to preserve and protect the open space and farmland, so it’s important to us and to the character of this community.

“We have a vision that includes continuing that work … for the beauty of it and the long-term value of it, not only to our family, but also to the community and the future.”

The scene off the back country road in Union is reminiscent of many rural landscapes across Maine, and it’s one whose beauty is likely taken for granted by those of us who pass: An old farmhouse and well-cared-for accompanying outbuildings is flanked by cultivated, productive, pristine farmland.

The land, the architecture, the lives of the people who call this land home meld into one and create an image many people believe to be quintessentially New England.