Jennifer & Stefan

Nobody rushed that morning. Jennifer laughed through hair and makeup in a white robe while an old golden retriever dozed on the hardwood floor. Her bridesmaids sat along a sofa in mismatched satin robes, and later a woman in navy lace fastened the back of the gown in a dark green room. Stefan dressed in a bright window across the way, a coral tie against a navy suit, with an orange rose boutonniere pinned on at the last minute.

They saw each other first beside a tall hedge of white hydrangeas, then worked their way through the grounds. A row of arborvitae made a clean green wall for the bridesmaids in sage chiffon, and the dog came back for a scratch behind the ears. A string trio played the guests into their white chairs under the trees. Stefan read his vows from a small card with the sun coming through the leaves behind him.

Cocktail hour spilled across the lawn with little plates of crostini and a lot of laughter. The whole wedding party lined up in front of the white columns of the mansion, and the couple slipped off into the garden near the old stone urn for a few quiet frames. I caught Jennifer looking straight into the lens with the veil blown over them both. The tent took over after dark, with slow dances for family, a floor full of raised hands and a tunnel of sparklers to close it out.