They were one sleep away from being man and wife.
The salty ocean air drifted from the waves, up the cliff walls and through the hair of guests at the rehearsal dinner picnic. Friends and family had gathered from different cities, different states to witness their wedding, just one sunset then sunrise away. The Northern California breeze had a slight chill in it. Not enough for a sweater but just enough to draw the one you love a little closer. Palm trees swayed tall to the left and to the right there was a magnificent view of cliff and ocean colliding. The father of the groom lifted his glass to toast the marriage of his son and the woman by his side he would soon have the privilege of calling daughter. The father of the bride–considerate and kind–made his way through the guests to welcome them to the state he called home. He talked to the men and women his daughter would soon call family with a slight glisten in his eye that spoke of mutual respect and love for them as well.
After both dinner and dessert had been eaten, we made our way down the steep steps that led to the private beach. He took her hand and she held his gaze. He supported her as they climbed the cliff walls. His pants rolled up and her dress held with one hand, they walked together with feet in the cold water and wet sand. They didn’t seem to mind. Mossy rocks and lapping waves stretched to the end of the horizon. Soft peach hues and hazy pinks covered the sky. Her dress was wet but the excitement in her eyes and the spirit in her gentle laugh indicated she didn’t care because the man she would be wife to tomorrow was there in this moment with her.