Fall is a fleeting season in Jackson Hole. One morning you wake up and the aspen and cottonwood trees have suddenly turned to gold, the air has become clear and crisp, the river fills the valley with mist and fog, and evenings make the mountains blush with pink.
The drama of the landscape simply amplifies the drama of the animals. Bull elk are bugling their love songs, hoping to win over a large harem of cow elk. Everyone is eating the last of the summer’s bounty in preparation for the long, lean winter months ahead. And those who can, are on the move to warmer climes.
And in the blink of an eye, the march of the seasons will bring us quickly into winter.