17 July 2012

Marriage, and Multiplication

The day after we arrived in Colorado, we watched two of our dearest friends marry. The wedding was perfect, set in a barn with a backdrop of a summer storm sweeping over blue mountains and grazing bison. It couldn't have gotten any more dazzling.

The light was low, which made for grainy photos, but it fits in with the venue's timelessness. I loved the view from my perch in the rafters as the bride and groom were gradually joined by multiplying couples on the dance floor.

Happy day, happy life, newlyweds! I give you these lines, from Pablo Neruda's Sonnet XVII:

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.


p.s. If you look closely, you can spy my mister sitting date-less and looking particularly dashing.