dancing in daylight

S. and PH. got married Saturday, on a lawn overlooking the valley and hills. This was not one of those weddings that you attend out of obligation, oh no. This was two of the people I most genuinely like in this town, making official what everyone already knew.

And so we drove out into the perfect afternoon and sat in the sunshine while they stood in front of the chuppah and drank a mixture of cider and porter from bottles that the officiant carried down the aisle in his sagging pockets. The little ring-bearer walked with his mom holding his hand. When he got to the end of the aisle, he took his place half-hidden behind his dad, the officiant, and PH. and her mom walked down the stairs, hand-in-hand.

We ate, of course, and drank, and even though it wasn't yet dark, we danced. You know I love me some bride and groom when I am willing to dance in daylight. And I was. I would have danced alone in daylight in front of the whole crowd, for those two.

Fortunately for all concerned, that was not necessary.