September Vows

Cole and Anna were married the first week of September, when summer was at her most brilliant. What a beautiful time for a wedding, if the weather holds that is. And hold it did. In fact, we had cool weather right up until the week of the wedding. Then as the forecast unfolded it got warmer and warmer to peak on the Saturday of the wedding. We were sweating after dark on the dance floor.

Two days later it all came crashing down – literally - with rain and high winds that felled mighty limbs on the site of the ceremony.

Turns out the ranch fixes up pretty good. Our cow pasture was glammed up by lights strung between poles in Cole’s carefully set out arrangement. Linen was draped over straw bales, a dance floor leveled on the grass. Being a grazing enthusiast, I have to say the pasture, which had been harvested once and allowed to regrow, was gorgeous and emerald green, the perfect backdrop to Anna’s color scheme of cinnamon and navy. Our native cottonwoods shaded, sheltered and cozied us all in their steadfast manner. Even the strawberry clover, which the photographer called wildflowers, were featured as foreground in the sunset photos.  

As a writer I love words. The word that comes to mind is providence, but what does it mean exactly? God or nature as providing protective or spiritual care.  Ah yes. It felt like that. Like nature held off as long as it could to bless a couple of kids, then let loose just to show us her power. It was humbling, just as it was humbling to witness these young people pledge their futures to one another while basking in the warm embrace (covid friendly mind you) of their family and friends as they embark on what they know will be, at times, rocky seas.

Because of the pending festivities, Mark finally took the time to finish the steps and retaining walls off the back of the house. Now that he’s done the heavy lifting, I can fret and fuss over the plants that live there for the rest of my days. As you read this, Mark, consider being told again how much I appreciate it.  

My vegetable garden was part of the decor. There was a row of sunflowers on one side and random flowers throughout. I planted the cosmos one year and now they voluntarily come up wherever they want. This year I gave the seedlings a little more leeway and they were scattered around the cucumbers and beets with their pink and white blooms. Even the carrots and swiss chard knew to be pretty this year. A wedding was just the push I needed to get the dripline done as well.  

It was a precious experience, from the girl trip to Boise where we found the perfect gown in an out-of-the-way dress shop, to the last minute clasping of great-great grandma True’s pearls around her neck.

As I write this, Mark is in the kitchen putting some words together for his aunt’s funeral. She died the day before the wedding. My Mom died in September too. Actually, considering it all, September is a good month to pass over to the other side - and a good month to marry. As we put the finishing touches on summer, we celebrate another growing season’s production and store up for the future. One part is finishing up, maturing and cycling back into the soil. The other part is seed dispersal and the storing of energy in roots or pollen for food in the faith of chapters yet to come.

I have a line I use this time of year, “September breaks your heart.” And so it did again. Death always does, but a wedding does it as well. It breaks your heart wide open with all the love you can hold. It leaves bare the hopes and humility we always feel as parents. I know I speak for Cole's Mom and Dad as well, that as our children leave us and commit to a new partnership, the heaviness we feel is good and right, and only proves our rock solid support for their lives ahead. 

above photos by thistleandpinecreative