Their kitchen is filled with pans of fried chicken and mason jars brimming with power jam and hand rolled imperfect bagels and platinum blonde babies. Cork boards are covered in thumbtacked photos of Tony with long curly hair. Of Pam with no hair.
Once her sunflowers bloom, Pam has time to walk across the highway in her flip flops and jump in the lake. Tony builds the deck, shirtless in the blazing sun.
Pam is from the prairies. Tony’s from the mountains. They’ve been together and apart and together, forever, again. Tony’s mom, Louisa, looks at me with serene eyes and says, ‘He loved her from the second he saw her.’
Waiting outside for the ladies to arrive, a storm swung down the valley, skirted the wedding site, and carried on its way. (Previous 2 and next 1 by the outstanding Buffy Goodman.)
A parade of friends and babies and friends’ babies. (Buffy Goodman)
And then the fiddlers and the bassist and the caller all came… and we swooped under arms and held hands and jumped and jigged…. and I think everything was right in the world, for a little while.
Warm congratulations, Pam and Tony. Thank you for having us photograph this adventure.