I'm on a little road trip for work this week, and I stopped at Columbia Town, this tiny California gold rush town where my family had the most unexpectedly amazing time 5 years ago.
Back in 2019, we rented this quaint little house for a couple of nights on our way out of Yosemite. There were deer in the yard. We drank sasparilla and ate greasy delicious tacos at the town saloon. My daughter flexed her tiny muscles while wearing her "brave" shirt and I grabbed a picture of her beaming with sun-flushed cheeks. We were "held up" during a wagon ride bandit takeover. My kids panned for gold. It was magical.
I expected the return of the magic this week during my quick stop in Columbia Town.
Instead, I was greeted with blazing heat and empty streets.
I quickly perused the historical businesses open for viewing, grabbed a fridge magnet to remind me of the magic and a 4-pack of sasparilla for my family, and hit the road.
The magic can't be recreated. It doesn't live in a place. Magic is in the moment only and because of who's there, and that's why it's so magical.
Onward to new magical memories.✨
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