Trevor & Christina

A striped signal flag snapped over the harbor while boats sat at their moorings, and that pretty much set the palette: navy, white and a bit of red. Christina posed in her ruffled strapless gown holding a small brown dog, first beside a framed painting and gauzy curtains, then outside in front of a white clubhouse with a red door. Her bridesmaids, all in navy, gathered in the club doorway with bouquets of white roses and dusty greenery.

The ceremony was at the Church of St. Augustine, and the recessional came up the aisle in black and white, the two of them grinning past full pews. Back at the water, they stood on the dock with an American flag on a club launch behind them and the September sky still bright. A walk down the long pier, clubhouse and flags at their backs, gave them a few quiet minutes.

Inside the open-sided pavilion, rows of paper lanterns ran along the rafters. Trevor threw a fist in the air at the head table, wrapped a friend in a bear hug, and ended the first dance with a sweeping dip. Later he stepped up next to the band's singer and took a verse himself. By dusk the whole pavilion glowed orange over the harbor, and the cake cutting dissolved into laughter.