I will admit, this is the furthest I've travelled for a wedding thus far. Out into the woods, toward the John River, passing farmer's fields and dilapidated churches on the way. I eventually arrived at Daniel and Meghan's beautiful property, tucked into the woods, stretching into the river, picturesque on this beautiful day that we were fortunate enough to have (some photos of that a little later).

"It's the big farm on the left, you can't miss it!"

Obviously they hadn't read an awful lot of my blog posts.

After stopping at, it turns out, an unrelated big farm on the left, I got the directions I needed and headed out to see the guys suit up. There was a surprising amount of crying going on there. But thankfully it was all coming from the would-be ring bearer, who's distain for his adorable vest and tie knew no limits. The groom, on the other hand, held his composure pretty well.

"Now who is coming up that washed out driveway?!"

Leave it to me to find the hard way in.

The country church was soon filled with smiles and laughter, and contrary to the disaster that it may have seemed like at the time, I don't think that anyone noticed the lack of bouquets as vows were exchanged and kisses were given. (Sorry if I let the cat out of the bag on that one)

In the convertible Mustang, the wedding party led us out into open fields and apple orchards. We tried not to take things too seriously, and thankfully I think it showed in the pictures.

Then it was back to their place where a tent was set up and waiting, filled with their friends and family (and cake and wine). When the sun began touching the horizon, we ducked out and walked down to the dock on the river for a quick sunset session.

After the speeches, we packed into the emptied garage for a mini-barn dance. Once the DJ turned up the lights and the fog, you wouldn't have even noticed they weren't dancing in the club.

Except that they weren't in the club. They were home.

And more so now, than ever before.