Ani and Justin, sittin’ in a tree . . .
The deer were out in force, no doubt too twitterpated to pay attention to the barrelling bullet of steel and glass that was Skate’s truck. Fortunately, her well-honed deer-spying skills kept us from danger on our way up north for Ani’s wedding this weekend; we frequently stopped entirely to let some doe-eyed doe get her bearings and move along.
We cased the joints before meeting up with Ani, who I had originally thought was remarkably relaxed for a bride on her wedding day. It was more obvious later in the evening that she was merely gathering her reserves while li’l Mu napped. Skate saved the day again with her portable steamer, and everything became barely-contained chaos until the moment of the wedding, when everything fell together exactly as if it were always this way; isn’t that how weddings work, anyway?
One minute into the ceremony, I started picking up the photographic pace, as it became obvious that when the Unitarian (?) Minister says brief, he means the short-short version. “Do you? Do you? Good, you’re married, kiss her! “
The kiss, however, brought that rush to a standstill, and it was obvious that this is how “The Kiss” is done. This was no kiss of propriety or an acknowledgement of the audience, but the well-practiced and singular moment between lovers, and I surely hope I did a respectable job capturing it.
Of course, they did it again and again on command at the reception, which is rather stunning, really. At most weddings, by the 4th ring of the bells, the kisses seem more perfunctory than passionate.
The reception was fun, carefree, and without a single drop of drama (okay, they played Rod Stewart for Justin’s mom, and as the photographer I couldn’t leave the room, but we all make sacrifices). Slappy, Dave, Jes, Skate and I stuck together for most of the night, harrassing the DJ, drinking it up (some of us more than others, *wink*), and giving Scarecrow and Mrs. King a hard time whenever possible.
Everything cooled down as Skate and I gathered our things, chilling out with Ani and her family in the back room, just sort of soaking in the whole experience. For once, I actually got drunk, and I entirely blame it on Jes’s vodka shot. I was full of I miss you already’s and I love you guys, but I guess I’m not all that different when I’m sober.
Later the next day, when we’re leaving Sarah Kate’s cabin at 8:30a so I can get to work, I heard that old chestnut, “3 x 5”. It brought to mind the truth of the matter, which is that no photograph can substitute for being there.
chestnut? you’re cracking up.
I’m not entirely without sarcasm. Nonetheless, I’d barely blink if someone suggested it was from another generation.
You’re my favorite. You save deer.
Listen, I wasn’t THAT drunk.
Okay, maybe I was. :)