I photographed my own bride, bare-faced.

That morning came and the herons and mayas chirped and whistled in the summer, the hedges leafing under the April sun, the brooks ran softly beside with spangles from sunshine.

In the midst of a verdant nature as our wedding decor, I found myself standing in front of Tanya Rae, holding a subdued green briery shrub as her bouquet, in the presence of God.

Never before had I seen such a splendid sight of grace and beauty as this, looking at her. I held a camera and took photographs of her as the zephyr blew her veil and hair.

I could stand in that spot for years, dreaming of dreams, wondering wonders of how or why. Why are you mine? Immensely beautiful this gift bestowed upon an ordinary man.

The Balete trees expand as robust as her heart, surrounded our island as we vowed. The skies showered, softly a sprinkle as we gathered in the middle of the pond, mangroves danced in the rhythm of cascading winds and the violin sound.

A handful of our families witnessed our laughs, the way we held our tears, our souls becoming one, our awkward gazes, our grateful hearts, our promises to listen when we don’t feel heard, to notice when we don’t feel seen.

As the sun began to sink in the deep Negrense horizons, subtle marigold, persimmon and plum brushed the skies as we prayed for God’s unlimited blessing, sealing that fateful day of love, art, thanksgiving, family and faith.

It has been my wedding to the force introverted and unseen, continually making me a better man.

Best,

Quincy John

Founder, HAYAG