Wedding Blog

September 6th, in the remote, Northwest reaches of Montana, our wedding was about to start.

While I waited in the wings for the ceremony to begin, dramatic clouds boiled and broke overhead, throwing the mountains into sun and shadows, sprinkling us with the lightest of showers…

Our guests arrived, finding among friends and family a few long-lost connections or rarely seen relatives, talking and laughing on the lawn:

The seating for our ceremony, once empty, started to fill with guests who had come from all across the country. Locals from Montana, relatives from Michigan, family from both Washingtons and Pennsylvania, friends from Oregon, New York, and California, everyone converged into this space:

To our delight, some took our suggestion of Western wear quite literally (like the father and son pictured below):

While others opted for comfortable casual clothing that befit the season and surroundings:

As our guests found their seats, the groomsmen exited the saloon, where they’d held a pre-wedding pow-wow over freshly-tapped pints of beer:

And, somewhat solemnly, escorted the groom to the ceremony site where they would all take their places:

I love the above photo because it seems to speak volumes even though neither of us can remember the context of it.

Below, Mr. CP talks with our officiant while in the foreground, his dad chats with one of his uncles:

For a preview of what Mr. CP will be like when he’s older, I have only to look at his dad. They’re almost identical in photos at the same age, and Mr. CP has just started working on the same bald spot his dad’s sporting here (he’ll hate me for saying that, but it’s true):

Our musicians, my mom and littlest sister, picked up their instruments…

…and began to play the prelude to our processional:

The groomsmen lined up neatly at the front, dapper boutonnieres in order:

While the bridesmaids found their bouquets waiting for them at the far end of the aisle:

Our yellow dahlias didn’t work out (they apparently arrived at the florist damaged), so we used orange and yellow-orange variegated types, which were beautiful anyway:

Aren’t they gorgeous?

Our ring bearer lined up next with our rings on a wood slice “platter” that he made himself as his gift to us:

Finally, our wee flower girl received her nosegay from her momma:

Although she was hard to convince to hold flowers when she found a lovely, ergonomic baseball on the ground. I think she would much rather have sported the baseball down the aisle:

Finally, everything was in its place and everyone had found theirs. My mother and sister started to play the processional, a beautiful rendition of Bach’s Wachet Auf (Sleepers Awake) on violin. I stepped out from behind the “Half Moon House” to join my bridesmaids and take my father’s arm. A second before everyone turned to look and the processional began, this is what I saw:

Up next, the ceremony begins…

[Credits: All images courtesy of Piknik Studios.]

Previously:
Married in Montana: The Rehearsal
Married in Montana: The Girls Get Ready
Married in Montana: The Guys Get Ready
Married in Montana: The Bus Ride to Polebridge
Married in Montana: Pre-Ceremony Preparations