A backyard wedding in a small town pressed up against Lake Michigan. Two dynamically wonderful people. A classic home filed with tiny time capsules of the three children who once pitter pattered throughout every corner of it. Two loving families. A whole lotta friends. One perfect wedding.
I had talked to Rhiannon once on the phone before she booked us. Daniel and I had Skyped with her for a short time once after that. We met James during their first look. Apart from a few spilled details of their history together, we knew very little about them or their families. We were in for one of the biggest treats of our entire wedding season.
They are meek, mild, humble, brilliant, kind, sweet, talented, and generous. They've traveled. They've loved. They've lived. Somewhere in between Illinois and New York and Egypt, they've forged a lifetime kind of love. Parts of it can be seen in their eyes. Parts can be heard in the way they talk to and about each other. Parts can be felt in every corner of the rooms they occupy.
Their wedding day quietly started upstairs in Rhiannon's childhood home. Following Polish tradition, James soon arrived with gifts to swoon her parents before he was allowed to see his pretty bride. After a quick walk around town, guest began arriving in drones and lining their backyard in sweet anticipation. When the ceremony ended, the newlyweds and their parents were each greeted with decorated pedicabs that escorted them to a local organic restaurant where their friends met them to celebrate. The evening ended in twinkle light white tents with music and dancing. Perfect.
