One month ago I was on a plane heading back from the most incredible weekend. B and I were invited to a wedding in Dunton Hot Springs, Colorado, and by a last-minute fluke I was elected officiant for the wedding! It was such a privilege to have a front-row seat to witnessing the love between Barb and Nick, and it took place in such a gorgeous place! So I’m sharing some photos from the weekend.
Let start with photos of our cabin…
There are not words which adequately express how beautiful Dunton is. So instead of trying, I’ll go ahead and share more photos for you, now of the rest of the resort–the saloon, bath house, and other small details around Dunton.
And, since this post wouldn’t be complete without photos of the bride, the groom, and the wedding…
Thank you, Nick and Barb, for letting me be a part of your beautiful day!
#1. it’s old and filled with churches.
#2. it’s beautiful.
#3. In Mexico, you get to eat hot dogs for breakfast.
#4.MEXICANS LOVE MARY, TOO!
This is me. Me, stuffing my face. Me, stuffing my face with one of the best burgers you can find, at a magical place called Shake Shack in New York City.
Back when B and I lived in New York, B was on a quest to find the best burger in New York, and I got to reap the benefits of his labor by eating very well. These pictures were taken on one of our last days in the city, as we frantically tried to encapsulate all of our “favorite things” into those finals days when we were neither working nor in seminary nor fighting nor packing nor traveling nor crying. (Have you heard? Moving is hard.)
This week, B is in finals for med school, which means I hardly see him and he feels like he’s dying. But NEXT week–it is a dream!–next week, we’re heading back to New York for five days to spend time with friends, and, of course, continue B’s hunt for the perfect burger. Yes, we will head to Shake Shack. Also on our list? We have reservations for Minetta Tavern, where we will have their $26 Black Label Burger. It costs more than their steak. I expect nothing less from New York.
Most of you know that B and I took a trip to Europe last summer. We probably took thousands of pictures, none of which I’ve printed, even though I had dreams of making some kind of beautiful scrapbook or collage or AT LEAST framing ONE of them.
We went to Spain, France, and Germany. Spain was marvelous. France was elegant and tiring. Germany was respite with a good, old friend. If we’d had more energy, it would have been fascinating.
We flew into Barcelona from New York, the same day that we had finally, officially moved out of our apartment. We were so rushed that our last day in New York–when we were supposed to be cleaning the apartment–we were doing things like lugging our 15 pounds of coins to the nearest bank with a coin sorter (30 blocks away) and depositing the cash into our Europe fund. I had just graduated from seminary that week. B was still jet-lagged from a trip to Korea with his mom. Our flight out of New York, more than anything, felt like a punch in the gut.
The first day in Barcelona was like blinking sleep out of one’s eyes. As if awoken from the terrible dream of leaving a life we loved, we rambled across the sunny city in a daze. Gaudi‘s wild architecture, fantastical and nearly grotesque, stretched us awake and alert. Some people call it Dr. Suess-ish. I call it distorted, but in the most beautiful and imaginative way.
We walked all day, all over the city, like we used to walk in New York: along the beach, up the hill to Parc Guell, past a choir weaving silken hollow tunes. We walked into the dusk, winding around lanes and plazas in the old city as the sky deepened to indigo. We tried to find somewhere to eat; got crabby when it was hard to find a restaurant. And we brainstormed names of what we thought Joe and Laura might have named Brian’s goddaughter, who we knew was born earlier that day. (They named her Hannah, which was perfect of course.)
It was such a simple evening. Sore feet, step upon step, earthen stones cobbled next to one another. But perhaps, that evening, I realized that walking away from New York was only a walk like any other.
Sometimes choices feel as if they will affect the rest of our lives, and often they do. But what we don’t consider in our deliberating is that the control we have of any situation is just fantasy. Control only exists until chance ultimately trumps choice and the chips fall where they fall. It will be then that we wish we had better appreciated the walk.
B and I returned from our Europe trip over a month ago… and since we aren’t moved into our new place (or have any of our new life organized at all), I haven’t really gotten around to posting some of my favorite photos from our trip.