There’s a moment when the light shifts in Missoula. It’s imperceptible at first, but impossible to ignore once you’ve noticed it. The afternoons are still drenched in warmth, long after the sun has passed overhead, but the mornings whisper of something a little cooler, a little softer. Summer, in all its dusty gold and river-kissed brilliance, begins to step aside. Soon, fall will take its place.
In Missoula Valley, the transition from summer to autumn is not abrupt, but it is certainly unmistakable. The scent of woodsmoke hangs heavy, mingling with the sweetness of the first fallen leaves; the cottonwoods along the Clark Fork begin their slow transformation, the green of summer giving way to ochres and golds that quite literally take your breath away. Rafting slows, backpacks replace river gear, and university students flood back into town, bringing energy and traffic in equal measure. At the Farmer’s Market, the stalls tell a similar story of transition. Where cherries, tomatoes, and bell peppers once filled hemp shopping bags, there are now crisp apples, butternut squash, and jars of honey harvested before the first frost.
For many, this change is welcome. After a summer of spontaneity, fall marks a return to rhythm. Students settle into classrooms, and hunters prepare for the backcountry. Light scarves come out, and thrift stores are tragically emptied of their grandpa sweater collections. Breweries lean into the season, tapping harvest ales and spiced ciders. Around the kitchen table, stories are shared of huckleberry hunts, smoky skies, and late-night swims at the lake. But there’s a melancholy here, too. The end of summer in Missoula means fewer river days, fewer dusks that stretch lazily toward 10 PM. We say goodbye to another season of concerts at the Kettlehouse, floating past osprey nests, and cotton candy at the rodeo.
Fall reminds us of the fleeting nature of Montana’s seasons. Every leaf that turns is both an ending and a beginning, as are most things in this silly, cyclical life. This season invites reflection, preparation, and pause. We are encouraged to slow down and notice the small things: the crunch of leaves beneath our boots, little clouds of breath in the morning, the warm glow that spills from your neighbor’s home. Let’s be grateful for that. As the nights grow longer and the days are bathed in that golden, slanting autumn light, Missoula settles into the rhythm of the season. Fall does not announce itself with fanfare, rather with quiet grace. And we welcome it with open arms, cozy flannels, and our favorite hot drink!
