Sunday, December 3, 2017

Wedding Memories – Part 3 (Unpredictable)

Me:  Our first wedding took place in Lost Maples Natural Area.  We had come here on vacation one year and fell in love with the place.  We had picked out a spot about a two-mile hike down the trail that was situated under a grove of maple trees, right near a small picturesque pond.  To get to it, one had to not only hike the trail itself, which wound through the trees and up and down the hills, but also leap across uneven stones that were placed precariously in the middle of several rivers.

What we hadn’t accounted for was the remoteness of the spot and the fact that there were no buildings within two miles.  So, either the girls would have to wear their wedding dresses while hiking down the trail, or we would have to come up with an alternative plan.   The alternative came in the form of a small, free-standing awning that my groomsmen and I had to carry all the way down the trail and set up just down from the pond.  Thus, burdened with the awning, some sheets that we attached to the sides to enclose it, and other items needed for the ceremony; we did not have the luxury of carrying our clothes and changing at the pond.  We hiked the entire two miles adorned in our wedding outfits.

Spousal Unit:  Getting married in Lost Maples seemed like a great idea, until we had to hike the five miles down the trail, carrying armfuls of wedding dresses.  My dress was by far the heaviest, so we took turns, heaving it along the path and lifting it over our heads as we crossed the stepping stones in the rivers.  The entire time the photographer was following along and snapping pictures of our plight.

Me:  Several hikers that passed us along the trail, seeing us dressed in medieval garb and carrying non-descript bags, mistook us for a band.  They stopped us to ask why we were performing in the park, and we simply told them that we were going to a wedding, which seemed to satisfy them.  One couple actually followed us back to the pond to check out the wedding festivities.  We set up the awning a little way away from the pond, around a bend in the trail, so that it wasn’t visible.  We attached sheets to the sides to enclose it, and then set off to scope out the spot we had chosen for our ceremony.

Spousal Unit:  It was unusually hot for October in Texas, so we were sweating profusely by the time we finally made it to the tent that the boys had set up for us.  It was off the path a little ways and had been fully enclosed to give us privacy while we changed.  We set about stripping off our sweaty clothes and shimmying into our dresses, stopping to touch up hair and make-up on each other as we went.

Me:  Now one of the things that the park ranger had previously told us was that they did not reserve areas of the park for ceremonies such as this.  It was on a first-come, first-serve basis.  At the time, this didn’t seem like such a big deal, but as we rounded the bend in the trail, we realized how wrong we were.  There in the exact spot that we had chosen for our wedding, under our picturesque trees and in our still little pond, was over a hundred Boy Scouts; swimming, running, and playing.  A hundred half-naked, bony little boys traipsing all over the entire area.

I couldn’t believe it.  I stopped right in the middle of the trail and just stared.  The one thought that flashed through my mind was, “My wedding is ruined.”  I actually think my groomsmen were more upset than I was.  One was about to go on a rampage, plowing through those scrawny Scouts and flinging their unconscious bodies into the pond.  I actually had to take a moment to try to calm him down before he went on a blood rage.  There was nothing for it, they had pitched their tents off to one side and were over-running the spot we had picked a year before.

After a slight readjustment of location and a lot of deep breaths, I went to talk to the Scout Master.  I explained the situation to him and asked if they wouldn’t mind vacating the pond during the ceremony.  He looked me dead in the eyes, not a hint of a smile on his face, and said, “On one condition.” 

A million thoughts ran through my head, as I tried to figure out what he was going to ask.  Did he want money?  Could we scrounge enough together between the four of us to pay him off?  Uncertainly, I asked, “And what’s that?”

And then he replied with the absolute last words I expected to hear; four unexpected words.  “You let us watch.”

Before my mind could fully process, my mouth was already saying, “Of course.”  And with that, his face broke into a grin, he shook my hand, patted me on the back, and offered his congratulations.  True to his word, he herded up all of the boys and had them sit off to the side.  One hundred still half-naked Scouts; legs crossed, chins perched on their hands, pond water dripping from their hair, eyes attentively fixed on the scene they were about to watch, and completely and utterly silent; sat in a group under the trees.

Spousal Unit:  When we were ready, we headed down the trail toward the pond.  The exact spot was still out of sight, hidden by a bend, so I had no idea until I was almost there that we had an audience.  A couple of hikers were stopped on the trail watching the scene, and off to one side was a large group of young boys, sitting cross-legged and shirtless.  I was so focused on the boys, that I almost tripped on a tree root going down the hill.  Not wanting to face-plant on my way down the aisle, I turned my attention instead to my husband-to-be, standing by the pastor and looking absolutely adorable in his white puffy-sleeved shirt and shimmering-black velvet vest.

“This was it,” I thought.  “The moment was finally here.  After today, this man would be my husband, and I would be his wife.”  My brother, holding on to my arm and walking me down the aisle, leaned over and whispered, “I wish you all of the happiness in the world, my sister.  I wish our father could be here to see how beautiful you look.  We are all proud of you.  And if this American doesn’t treat you like you deserve, then I want you to know that we are always here for you…and that I have several large friends that will take him apart.”

Me:  The trail itself afforded a natural aisle that the procession could come down, winding around the pond and down through the trees before meeting up with the pastor and me at the edge of the pond.  The moment I saw the first flash of color off of the first bridesmaid’s dress, my stomach started to churn.  Despite all of the preparation and planning, I was still nervous.

When my wife-to-be finally made her way through the trees, her white dresses dragging through the multi-colored leaves along the ground, I thought, “This was it.  This woman was going to be mine forever.  How did I ever get so lucky?”

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