A Morning in Los Ojos
Some wedding mornings run on nerves. John's ran on good company. On October 3rd, we found him at the house in Los Ojos with his friends around him, the kitchen full of grocery bags and the back door open to a wide sweep of pasture under a very blue sky. Somebody held up a T-shirt for the camera. Bottles and cans came together in a toast on the porch. Inside, one of the guys stood at an ironing board with a real iron in his hand while the others stood around and offered, we assume, very helpful advice. It was an easy, ordinary morning with the people who know him best, which is exactly what a morning like that should be.
Everything He Needed, Set Out by the Door
John doesn't need much explaining once you see what he laid out. A striped pearl-snap shirt hung in the doorway beside a trailing green plant, and on the wall next to it was a family photograph in bright red. His hat sat on top of a pair of woven leather boots with white shafts, and his belt lay coiled at the bottom step with the buckle turned up. Nothing about it was styled for a wedding. These are the clothes of a man getting married as himself.
Meanwhile, in Chama
Up the road, the morning sounded different. Marissa sat in a soft sage set by the window in Chama while one woman worked on her lashes and another followed behind with the hairspray, both of them leaning in close. Later, at a wooden table with a little orange pumpkin at the far end, she took a pen and filled a page by hand. Her phone was right there beside her. She wrote it out anyway. There's something about that we love. Some words want to go through your own hand first.
Lace Up to the Shoulders
The dress was all soft white, with lace flowers climbing the sheer sleeves and the edge of her veil so that the two seemed to grow out of each other. Green leaves and blush blooms ran through the lace, and her bouquet picked up the same colors in mint and cream. She stood in front of an old clock with one hand at her waist and looked straight at us. She knew exactly how she looked. So did everyone else, a little while later.
The Part Where He Couldn't Finish
Down Home Lodge had turned gold for them. The cottonwoods along the water were right at the edge of their season, and a gazebo sat among them draped in sage fabric and white roses, with log benches set out on the fallen leaves. Marissa came down the aisle on a steady arm, her veil trailing behind her. John stood waiting in his hat. When it came time for the vows, he read his from his phone and got only so far before he had to stop and press a hand over his eyes. One of the men standing up with him reached out and laid a hand on his shoulder. Then Marissa took his hands, bent forward, and laughed that big laugh of hers up at him, her own page folded between her fingers, and everyone under that gazebo breathed again.
One Small Boy, Two Kisses
The moment from that afternoon we'll remember longest was also one of the shortest. John lifted their son, Jackson, in his floral shirt, onto his arm, and Jackson leaned in and kissed him on one cheek while Marissa kissed him on the other. John squeezed his eyes shut and simply took it. It was only a second or two. These are the photographs that stay.
Green Dresses and Tipped Hats
Then came the people who stood beside them. The bridesmaids in deep forest green moved past the gazebo in a swirl of skirts, the men came through in dark shirts and hats, and for a moment the whole party blurred together under the trees. Down by the water, the men lined up on the gravel with their son Jackson, the smallest groomsman, planted right out front, all of them reaching up to tip their hats. Back among the cottonwoods, the women gathered around Marissa in the long afternoon shadows, green against gold.
Through the Veil
When things finally went quiet, we took the two of them back into the cottonwoods. We let Marissa's veil drift across the lens until the trees and the sky softened into something like an old painting, and she looked back through it, perfectly still. John came in close and rested his head against hers, one hand holding her cheek, his hat tipped low over them both. Late in the day, we watched them walk hand in hand across the open ground below all those yellow trees, small against them, in no hurry to be anywhere else.
A Boots-On Kind of Reception
The reception was a good, comfortable room under red beams. They linked arms and drank together, Marissa's lace sleeve crossed over John's striped one. She took the microphone with John at her side, the hat still on. Before long the floor filled with boots and blue jeans, and the two of them ended up in the place we suspect they like best, dancing together with their son held between them. A wedding can have a lot of beautiful parts. For us, this one came down to a family dancing.
John and Marissa — thank you for trusting us with a day so full of the people you love, from the porch in Los Ojos to the last dance in Chama. We'll be thinking of those two kisses for a long time.
Quiet Light by the Amoras photographs weddings, engagements, and families across Northern New Mexico, including Chama, Los Ojos, Tierra Amarilla, the Cumbres high country, Santa Fe, and Chimayó. If you're looking for a wedding photographer in Chama who will be there for the quiet mornings as well as the last dance, we'd love to hear your story.
