Olivia & Elvin

The clouds over Long Island Sound never broke all day, and nobody seemed to mind. Rows of white folding chairs lined a runner on the sand at Penfield Beach, a reserved card clipped to one seat with greenery. Elvin waited under a draped arch in a white dinner jacket and black bow tie, while his groomsmen clapped the bridal party down the aisle. Olivia came out from the pavilion on an escort's arm, the shingled building and its deck packed with guests behind her.

Wind did most of the styling. It pulled Olivia's cathedral veil sideways across the sand and kept the surf white and choppy behind them, which gave every frame on the waterline some motion. The bridesmaids wore black satin, the groomsmen wore black tuxes, and Elvin stood out in white against all of it. Some of my favorite frames from the beach ended up in black and white, because that sky was already halfway there.

Inside, the pavilion glowed with string lights and pale drapery. The two of them raised champagne at a sweetheart table dressed with blush roses and a pair of glasses wrapped in Puerto Rican flags. Olivia read her own toast off her phone, spun around the floor with the flower girls, and shared a slow dance in a cloud of low fog while cold sparks shot up beside the DJ booth. Then the dance floor took over.