Letters – Our Readers Write: Winter 2025
Caledon’s “Swan Lake” sparks discussion; Mulmur scenery inspires poetry; and a rural dweller finds herself doing a dirty job.
Is democracy in danger?
Thank you for the reporting on the issues related to “Swan Lake” [“Explainer: Why Is Controversy Swirling Around Caledon’s ‘Swan Lake?’,” News Desk, October 10, ’25]. We all need to have this information to realize the danger that democracy is in, not only in Caledon, but throughout Ontario and, in fact, Canada. Too many absurd undemocratic decisions that benefit corporations are being made in our “virtual democracy.” Knowledge is power and more. We need power to the people!
— Joe Grogan, Bolton
A dirty job – but someone’s gotta do it
I am very thankful for the article from Alison McGill about septic systems [“Your Country Septic System, Demystified,” autumn ’25]. I realized we haven’t emptied ours for quite a few years and it would be time to do it. I dug out the tank yesterday while the weather was still nice.
— Irmgard Jankowski, Palgrave
Kudos to writer and naturalist Don Scallen
What a talent. I, like yourself and countless others, am fascinated by our insect and arachnid friends [“Singing Insects,” Notes from the Wild, September 8, ’20]. I truly enjoy, as you say, a purposeful walk with camera in hand. People in large part are oblivious to the small wonders that are not necessarily camouflaged, but sitting in plain sight. Keep up the great work.
— Scott Morrow, Toronto
A poetic ode to these hills
Editor’s note
Ryan Johnson was inspired by the changing colours of the landscape he encountered during a recent visit to the Museum of Dufferin in Mulmur and wrote a poem to capture the moment. Born and raised in Dufferin County, Johnson now lives in Clearview Township. He reached out to share the work with In The Hills readers.
The Hills of Mulmur
The sun pours light in rolling fields below,
the cows in pastures graze and breezes blow,
in Mulmur where tall grasses fade and bend,
I sit above and watch the summer end.
An empty chapel sends a quiet prayer,
piano chords drift out into the air,
the birds take up the early autumn’s words,
but by the merry crowd they are not heard.
The summer green has faded from the fields,
the story of the season now revealed:
though dry and hot, the farmers’ faith commands,
lest they forget “hard years shall teach good hands.”
As from signal fires smoky columns rise,
reaching up to the blue September skies;
but they are not smoke and there is no fire,
just dusty clouds the autumn’s chores require.
We should not mourn what time has claimed must be,
so here at last the dust has come for me;
the letting go, it is a gentle spell,
these are the days that let us say farewell.
by Ryan Johnson
CORRECTION
In our story on Theatre Orangeville [“Taking the Stage,” autumn ’25] we misspelled executive director Sharyn Ayliffe’s first name as we introduced her. As we’ve known her for years, we really regret this error!
Related Stories
Explainer: Why Is Controversy Swirling Around Caledon’s ‘Swan Lake’?
While activists and their allies fight to protect a body of water at a rehabilitated gravel pit, the Town of Caledon is considering new bylaws that could alter future land use regulations.
Your Country Septic System, Demystified
How does a septic system work? Learn all about this vital part of rural life and avoid a messy meltdown.
Singing Insects
You likely won’t see many of these without a little dedicated searching.
Letters – Our Readers Write: Autumn 2025
Readers reached out about our “green roof” story, and also to submit a heartfelt poem about Caledon’s natural beauty.
