This past weekend, I traveled from Los Angeles to Camden, Maine, for my sister’s wedding. The ceremony was held in a wooded outdoor chapel overlooking Casco Bay. It felt like a little church of nature — trees all around, ocean in view, and no sound of cars or traffic, only birdsong and breeze.

A tender gathering

It was a foggy day, umbrellas ready in case of rain. The benches inside the pergola were too few, so guests stood around the outside, looking in. Live music played softly at the side as my sister, holding my father’s hand, came up the wooded entrance and around the corner. Watching her walk forward, I nearly cried.

I sat in the front row with my parents and youngest sister, the camcorder in my hand. I delivered the rings during the ceremony — a simple but meaningful role. From that seat, I could look back and see family and friends gathered from different chapters of life, each one there to offer love and recognition.

Two cultures, one union

My sister Lindsey and her partner Joaquin brought together two cultures — American and Mexican. A lasso was placed around them, symbolizing their union. When the vows were complete, my youngest sister rang the bell, and with its sound the ceremony came to a close. Everyone stepped down from the little outdoor chapel smiling, carried by the joy of the moment.

The presence of love

Weddings are unique because they gather us in presence — not just for the couple, but for everyone who witnesses. In that foggy clearing, we were reminded of what it means to pause, to honor, and to celebrate love in its purest form.

Moments like this are fleeting; they can never be repeated in the same way. But when we are attentive, they live on in us — a reminder that life’s truest ceremonies often happen not in grand cathedrals, but in quiet places where nature, family, and spirit meet.