I love when the just married couple walks back down the aisle together. It's always impossible for them to contain their happiness...

You always have to include the kiss in the wedding photos.

I love earnestness in a man's face.

Laughter is always good luck.

Before the wedding.

Julia, my favorite little girl, was a fairy princess / flower girl.

A very handsome North Carolina hound dog was on hand to participate in the wedding. We named him Ghost Dog.

The wedding was in a very beautiful place...

To the bride and groom!

One of those "Stop the car, I have to get out and photograph that sign!" moments where all the sane people sit rolling their eyes but nonetheless patiently wait for you to take your photograph.

Cailin is my other "dog niece". Tennis ball obsessed!

Lola is my "dog niece", the bigger one. A beautiful and sweet Great Dane.

Visiting my sister's house in Atlanta for the first time. She has a lovely guest room. Space for guests seems like the height of luxury to me.

Even in the rain, I am trying to look up.

Went to Whidbey Island, in the rain, and took photographs.

There's a little girl I don't know, but whom I love, half way across the world, and she sees a mermaid in this. Now, I will forever too.

complete fog
no idea
tentative venture
"normal life"
I don't know
when
clear

The morning of my father's funeral service. Hurricane Hannah decided to drench us. The rain didn't bother me though...I know I already posted this poem a while ago but this time I have included it all. It was always one of my favorites but now it will always mean so much as this is exactly how it happened: rain was shoveled out of the sky and those who could come did so slowly and with thought.

Marengo
...

Out of the sump rise the marigolds.
From the rim of the marsh, muslin with mosquitoes,
rises the egret, in his cloud-cloth.
Through the soft rain, like mist, and mica,
the withered acres of moss begin again.

When I have to die, I would like to die
on a day of rain--
long rain, slow rain, the kind you think will never end.

And I would like to have whatever little ceremony there might be
take place while the rain is shoveled and shoveled out of the sky,

and anyone who comes must travel, slowly and with thought,
as around the edges of the great swamp.

~Mary Oliver

My Dad planted the seeds for these marigolds in the spring but he hasn't gotten to see them bloom. We cut some and put a little vase on his bedside table. Behind them, his photos as a little boy, and then by me a couple of years ago.

My Dad passed away on September 2nd, 2008.

I have new posts from the last month that I've been away. Please take a look starting here.