Red Bat Photography
Folksonomy > children and babies
October 1st, 2011

This post is Part 1 of a 2-part series. Read Part 1 – Read Part 2

Okay, sure, miracle is too strong a word for what happened that day. Nevertheless, I was impressed.

When Amber and Sam planned their June wedding, they weren’t anticipating rain. Rain is usually reserved for months like January, February, and March. April, yes. May, maybe. But rain in June? Here, in Santa Cruz? Highly unlikely. So it was with confidence in the prospect of lovely weather that they arranged to get married on Natural Bridges beach.

A few days before their wedding, I mentioned some weather forecasts that hinted at the possibility of precipitation on their special day. That was when Amber and Sam told us that they were getting married on that beach no matter what. They had no backup plan for the ceremony. If it rained, they would get married in the rain, under umbrellas. Could we manage that, photography-wise? Sure! we said. We’ve taken pictures at rainy weddings before.

But we don’t think it’s going to rain on us, said Amber and Sam.

I’m sure you can see where this is going. Yes, it rained that day. Not just a sprinkle, either. It poured. The sky was dark and threatening, and the whole world felt cold and wet.

Then, an hour before the ceremony was to start, the rain stopped. The clouds ceased dumping water and arranged themselves to provide a pleasingly dramatic backdrop for the vows. I breathed a giant sigh of relief because even though I CAN take photographs in the rain, I mostly prefer not to.

In addition to the weather excitement, this ceremony involved lots of things I like. Natural Bridges is my favorite beach in Santa Cruz, and I am always happy to find myself there. I loved the bridal procession that began in the parking lot near the butterfly grove and went down the road to the beach. It was led by the bride’s best friend, who played his guitar and led the bridal party in song as they marched down the hill, across the sand, and up to the altar by the lifeguard stand.

Vows, rings, and kisses were exchanged, a broom was jumped, tears were cried and then it was over. We all got into our cars to go to the (indoor) reception site, and as soon as we were in transit, the sky opened up and the rain poured down harder than ever.

But not a drop of rain fell on Amber and Sam during their ceremony. I couldn’t believe their luck.

June 30th, 2011

This post is part 2 of a 2-part series. Read part 1 – Read part 2

We are on a roll with the Kahlil Gibran here, so let’s keep going! While we wait for the photos from the lively reception that followed the marrying of Cassie and Joe, we can hear from Mr. Gibran on the subject (should that be subjects? no, he says they’re the same thing) of Joy and Sorrow.

Two important notes first:

1. Yes, that is a cake fight you see happening between the bride and groom.
2. The groom made the skull and stars arch under which they were married. At the time of the wedding (many months ago), he declared himself to be available to make similar objects for other weddings, so if that sounds like something you would want, get in touch with us and we’ll find out if his fine services are still available.

On Joy and Sorrow

Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that holds your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter’s oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.

Some of you say, “Joy is greater than sorrow,” and others say, “Nay, sorrow is the greater.”
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
Together they come, and when one sits, alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.

Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.
Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.
When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.

from Kahlil Gibran’s The Prophet