My niece got married on Sunday. It was a mist-filled, wonder-full day. The wedding took place in a garden on the North Shore of Massachusetts, so the weather was a concern. With temperatures 20 degrees lower than normal and intermittent rain throughout the weekend, the outdoor ceremony was in doubt. But the father of the bride said "No. My daughter wanted a garden wedding, and that's what she's going to have." And so she did. It was beautiful. Just beautiful.
I put together the readings for the ceremony. A pastor-relative and I read the selections from literature and the Bible. We've done readings together before and do well together. I chose selections from Robert Louis Stevenson, Maya Angelou, Thomas a Kempis, George Eliot, the Bible, and Pablo Neruda. His
Sonnet LXIX was my favorite of all:
Maybe
nothingness is to be without your presence,
without you moving, slicing the noon
like a blue flower, without you walking
later through the fog and the cobbles,
without the light you carry in your hand,
golden, which maybe others will not see,
which maybe no one knew was growing
like the red beginnings of a rose.
In short, without your presence: without your coming
suddenly, incitingly, to know my life,
gust of a rosebush wheat of wind:
since then I am because you are,
since then you are, I am, we are,
and through love I will be, you will be, we'll be.
A few months ago, a friend and I had tea at a charming tea room in the equally charming town of Carefree, Arizona. The tea room, called "English Rose," was a delightful experience and I've been wanting to go back ever since. Yesterday, I discovered that the town has a 4 acre desert garden, so I drove over to explore.
The drive itself, once you get within 6-8 miles of the town, is a botanical education with flora- and fauna- identification signs posted by shrubs, trees, and cacti. The signs are large enough to read as you drive by. 
