By Emily Stonehouse

We are a town that greatly depends on summer traffic. I get it. And I haven’t seen any specific numbers, but as a local, it seems like the community was bumping this summer.

Despite fire bans and droughts and overwhelming heatwaves, our cozy communities seemed to be hustling and bustling through it all.

That’s a great thing. And I thank the many cottagers and visitors that graced our neck of the woods over this hazy but not so lazy summer.

And now, we’re back. School is in session, the colours of the leaves starting to crisp and crinkle with the chilly nights. Local shops are adjusting their hours, accommodating the absence of summer students and steady traffic.

And from an economic perspective, I recognize that this is a time where many businesses gather their stores from the summer; taking a nod from the local squirrel population, saving their hard-earned acorns to carry them over the numbness of winter.

And we will rev up again, in time. Our communities have found their footing when it comes to capitalizing on what we’ve got; success in snow, revelling in rain.

But sometimes, there are these little moments, when the local kids hop on their buses and a layer of sleepiness settles on our town again, that we’re reminded of our roots.

When we did the story list for this week, we realized that the hum drum of summer has dwindled. This happens every year. Momentary panic. What do we cover, what will fill our pages?

But then, like the consistency and reliability of the leaves starting to turn, we reconnect with our community.

We are entering the season of celebrating locals. Highs, lows, ups, downs.

Our regular section recognizing our one and only high school will return to these pages.

We will dedicate time and space to celebrating local. Local people, local businesses, local stories. Our reporters will be writing profiles on personable personalities, columns on colourful characters.

The ones who stay awake, when our sleepy little town returns to its normal state.

The go go go of the summer months, the marathon it takes our local businesses to stay afloat, that’s something that takes guts, takes determination, takes heart.

I am always in awe of the tangible shift that occurs after each Labour Day. The heightened spark that looms overhead has dimmed, the palpable energy that courses through the arteries of our little worlds; its thrumming and pulsing slows to a halt.

And now, we rest. We take a deep breath, and rally for the next time that we put our best faces forward; the unbreakable masks of beaming customer service slipping over our tired eyes.

A shoutout to the many local businesses who step up, who show up, knowing that bringing people to our community is an effort taken for the greater good. And a thank you to the many visitors who chose to spend precious time in our neck of the woods this past summer. I hope we can rest with ease as we shimmy into the next season.

And now, it’s time to shine a spotlight on the almighty locals, and the breadth and depth of stories they share.