We took the urge to see the first touch of fall in the Sierra, a drive back to Columbia. It’s fall, time to pay homage to our sweet old charmer.
When we arrived, most tourists are already gone, just locals. Follow the only noise in town, several kids were running and screaming on their race to get ice cream. Some locals were dressing up for the only show in town, the nightlife for a Saturday. A gentleman was walking his dog, chatting with us, “Did you see the banjo & fiddle contest today?” “Nope, we were late.”, “A lot of music… Do you want me to take your picture?” He offered to me and Mama. Even though we missed the banjo contest, we got our picture from a true local and a warm welcome from town.
When night falls, Columbia turns on its magic. It seems like chiffon covering, gives the illumination of surreal. The September moon hanging over the low branches, cast a spell over the town, mesmerizing this sleepy corner in the deep Sierra.
