Finding Fall in Warrenton
When I moved to Warrenton eight years ago from Los Angeles, I promised myself I wouldn’t spend the rest of my life in traffic or chasing brunch reservations. My family’s roots are here in Northern Virginia, but until I settled in this small town, I never truly understood what it meant to feel at home. The Warrenton Fall Festival is one of those annual events that reminds me why I traded city lights for this kind of charm.
Every October, Main Street transforms into a winding, walkable wonderland of tents and smiling faces. This year, more than 160 booths filled the downtown streets, each with its own small discovery waiting to be found—hand-poured candles with woodsy scents, jars of golden honey, hand-stitched quilts, and even a few Virginia wines that made me want to linger a little longer. Local farms showed off their premium meats and produce, reminding me how close the connection between maker and meal can be here.
The air itself was part of the experience: that unmistakable mix of funnel cake, BBQ smoke, and fresh-popped kettle corn. Food trucks lined Main Street, serving everything from soft-serve ice cream to Thai street noodles, and there were long lines for just-squeezed lemonade and creative kombucha flavors that would have felt right at home in any big-city market.
What struck me most—beyond the food and crafts—was how every corner of Warrenton seemed to show up. Representatives from both political parties handed out flyers just a few booths away from local churches, schools, and even the colorful Warrenton Pride organization, all sharing space with the same cheerful sense of community. You’d see a dentist chatting with a farmer, a teacher grabbing a taco between friends, a candidate shaking hands beside a band playing covers of ’70s rock classics.
But my personal highlight came a block off Main, where a new addition to the festival stole my heart: Art Studio 81. Tucked just off Fourth Street, this newly opened art collective offered a glimpse into Warrenton’s creative soul. The space was filled with displays of vivid, expressive local art — and some work from nationally known artists, all with a connection to Warrenton. It felt alive, hopeful, and beautifully homegrown.
By mid-afternoon, as I sipped a fresh-pressed juice from a local purveyor and watched families stroll past with kids clutching balloons, I realized the day had flown by. The Fall Festival isn’t just Warrenton showing off—it’s Warrenton showing up.
For someone who once measured excitement in skyscrapers and concert lineups, this small-town festival has become one of the things I look forward to most each year. It’s a reminder that joy doesn’t always need to be chased down a busy freeway. Sometimes, it’s right here on Main Street, under a canopy of October leaves, with the smell of kettle corn in the air.
