. . .we spent Saturday at a wedding on the shore of a pond deep in the woods of Wakefield. . .the bridesmaids' dresses were ruched gatherings of jewel tones, sifted from the trees in autumnal colors. . .scarlet, purple, orange, deep blue. . .and the groomsmen wore corsages tucked into empty gunshells. . .and the sun sank into the woods as the flower girl dumped all her flowers on the back row ("There, i took care of it much faster. . .") and vows were spoken. . .and we feasted on cake and candy, ham biscuits and pimiento cheese sandwiches, chicken wings and bacon wrapped shrimp while sipping through straws from mason jars. Pumpkins glowed on the table, and a great, stuffed bear lifted sharp claws over the groom's cake. . .where a figure of the groom in a tux with his pants legs rolled up sat on the top layer with a fishing pole and the bride called to him from below. . .the real bride and her groom (my cousin) were a breath-takingly romantic, gentle, happy, couple. . .who just happen to like to hunt together. . .and near the end of the party, my eighty-three year old papa left his three pronged cane on the edge of the dance floor and led his Bride of fifty-seven years, my mama, to a slow dance. . .and i bowed head and gave thanks and understood all over again why the first Miracle was performed at a Wedding by a Son for His mama. . .and i think me now, what a wonder that a Wedding Feast waits us in Heaven. . . and if the Scholars are right, it just may be held during the autumn, at one of the Fall Feasts. . .
Here, for you, just a peek. . .