At the site of infamy, I crawled inside your photograph. Your nape, painted by the redwoods' boughs, became the end of my world. My horizon. If I were to know it, finally, then, I would know all I needed to know, for I would know you.
Betsy and Vince's wedding day began as clouds obscured the main piers of the Golden Gate Bridge. Steel supporting clouds. The road bowed to the giant redwoods, each demanding right-of-way. Through the twists and turns, we arrived in Muir Woods. The rain laid siege to the trees, but only tears wet the faces of the bride and groom. They said their vows to the ferns and the flowers, and the sea kissed their feet for their first dance.
By Mann Frau
Canon C100 MK II
FJ 8543 VD