They’re folded into purple and black satin, and the flowers white and the mountains make a jagged rim around the edge of a turquoise pool.
I remember how Trent and his dad argued the definition of a mountain on our drive into Jasper and all I know is, they are beauty.
There’s no tiring of beauty, and it’s here, in this union of man and wife, the oldest, most sacred union made pure by white and ring and kiss sealing it all. And they braid purple and white cords together while the elk and the moose bow low in the bush and there’s a hush amongst us standing, the few witnesses on this isolated island reached only by bridge.
It’s a hush of people remembering: the vow. The cool slide of gold on finger, the pronouncing man and wife and the flower petals falling. Some now divorced wondering when did the petals fade? When, the gold become tarnished, the white stained? When did the guitarist stop playing and the bridge to the island break in two?
They’re signing their names and smiling into camera and it’s easy to believe in love when it’s packaged so perfect. But it’s in the fevered of brow, in the folds of skin and the marks stretching and the feet of crow, in the empty bank account, in the empty bread box, in the morning breath and the nighttime snoring, that love is.
Mountains.
Love.
Their definition lies in their beauty: in the rugged, jagged, ice-covered crevices and in the peaks that touch heaven.
Thanking, with Ann...
391. weekend wedding in Jasper
392. hike in mountains
393. cozy bed and breakfast
394. my little boy in a bow-tie
395. my husband and the way he couldn't stop kissing me that day
396. safe at home
397. new perennials and the way everything is blooming
398. nachos with homemade salsa
399. fuzzy blankets
400. a week of good night's sleep
26 comments:
What a lovely post!
smiles. love is in those ever after moments that are not always fairy tales...lovely post emily...hope you all are having a great weekend!
This was beautiful, and I loved reading it to The Avett Bros! You reminded me of the beauty's of the rockies I take for granted because they are too close to home, and the wedding and marriage I also take for granted....perfect.
i watched two strangers get married on saturday. i was on the beach, and their very simple little wedding took place a few yards away from me. i had those same thoughts youve written so beautifully, running through my head as i watched them. and i was going to do a post about it later today.
really enjoyed this.
#395--pure magic!
i feel like i was there :-) AND, i'm glad to hear you've been sleeping. what a gift.
Beautiful images. Rejoicing with you over gift of sleep!
oh my sweet.....love seeing you in bridal white and the new flush of love. thank you for tenderness this morning.
so much love.
New love is so pretty and white and shiny. It is lovely to photograph and look at. Old love is more mottled and wrinkled and dirty and has a funny smell, but it's love, too.
Yes, that is love. It ripens with time and mellows through the years.
It's so beautiful. I'm learning to appreciate the mountain part of love, the edges and the crooked parts. Refining and beautiful, like this post.
HUGS!
this is beautiful Emily...I esepcially love "But it’s in the fevered of brow, in the folds of skin and the marks stretching and the feet of crow, in the empty bank account, in the empty bread box, in the morning breath and the nighttime snoring, that love is."
so true, so precious and so difficult to maintain..beautiful words and thoughts as always emily
oh yeah! you slept! and this post. so beautiful.
no truer beauty for sure!
I imagine, as I read your words Em, forces that form craggy mountains and grow a marriage strong. Oh, you are such a writer!
You slept! Thankful with you. I have been doing better too. Thank you for your prayers sweet girl.
I love the moose and the elk and the mountains bearing witness to all of this. And little boys in bow ties? I'm undone.
yes to this, and yes to the mountains all over again. my rickey and i were just last night sharing how we've just HAD to weather the "its" and how there never seemed to be a choice, a questioning of the matter, but really, ultimately, i suppose there always was. but we chose to stand supple under jagged, carried by Love for love.
beautiful post, beautiful wedding peeks.
praying your little peanut is well and your family is well and you are well.
hugs
a story of love and beauty through the years ..you weave it so beautifully ..your lists make me smile ....blessings friend
such a beautiful description of a wedding Emily...and you are right it is in the years that follow...the crows feet and morning breath where love deepens and deepens and the fairytale becomes real. My husband and I will celebrate 23 years of marriage next Saturday...our love grows with each passing moment.
Yes....When love turns into brave it becomes truly beautiful!!!
Beautiful friend...
love and more love,
meliss
what joy in the mountains and your words ...
I have just finished Ann's gift to the world....and wow was my breath taken away on so many levels...I really enjoyed the reading of this...yes love is so much not the perfect package but the straggly string that unravels along the way and the messy brown torn papers that make life...TK xx
oh Em,
thank you.
I've been away from the computer, but living love and life ,
and this was such beauty to click on this morning. A stolen quiet moment in the hotel breakfast room.
love to you as you continue to braid all the parts of your life into holy.
What interesting contrasts you pose: this divine union with faded flowers, a broken bridge and a silent guitar.
The empty bread box makes me count my blessings and admonish myself for worry: Even when I was young and broke, I ate well (if simply), thanks to the food co-op I belonged to. I've never gone hungry, so now, why should I worry about the future?
Marriage, ups and downs, mountains and valleys, all a gift. You paint it well.
And the sleep, thanking God for that!
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