A community like Hogsback never stays still. It breathes. People drift in on the mist, drop anchor or just evaporate again. Some stay for a season… others – a lifetime and eventually, the road calls some away again, while quietly calling others back home.
This month, the village scales tipped once more with that bittersweet rhythm. We said a collective, reluctant goodbye to long-time occupants of our quiet corner, including our most distinguished four-legged mayor, whose dignified presence on the local paths, set the standard for municipal leadership around here. He was one of the first trail guides too, taking guests on hikes and telling them all our secrets.
To those who have packed up their hearths and moved on to new chapters: thank you. Thank you for the years, the shared fire-side stories, the patience during power outages and the indelible marks you’ve left on this mountain. You leave behind empty spaces that won’t easily be filled. I’m trying not to mention names, because how can you say Eileen without sharing a story about her magical organized chaos, how can you say William without hearing his guitar. Shaun’s looks and Cathy’s brilliance, Michelle Griffith’s wisdom and connection to nature. The hours they all volunteers, the messes they helped clean, the laughs and the love.
And if we do that, then I would have to include all your wonderful farewell messages on the WhatsApp groups. Point is, we all have a story, a memory or experience and you’ll be missed, but Hogsback bids you farewell and wishes you only the best!
Yet, as the mountain always does, it makes room for new beginnings too…To the fresh faces unpacking boxes and awaiting moving trucks; welcome. To the newly adopted rescue pup currently discovering the sheer sensory overload of the mistbelt, kiddo cuddles and wet leaves; welcome to the best life a dog could ask for.
And to those wandering souls who left years ago, only to realize the mountain never quite let go of them: welcome home. You know as well as anyone that once Hogsback gets into your boots, you’re bound to find your way back eventually.
To those departing, take a piece of the mist with you. To those arriving (or returning) put the kettle on, if there’s electricity. The mountain is glad you’re here.
