This one is one for the memoirs.
Anyone who lives up in the Peace region knows that the start of summer was, um, not very sunny until almost August. In fact, the day of Bonnie and Andrew’s wedding, the only way to get from Tumbler Ridge to Fort St John was via Chetwynd, as Highway 52 was still washed out. (A rumour that Highway 29 was closed due to a mudslide was blessedly false, as that would have made travelling impossible.)
Back to the wedding. The day dawned grey but dry, which was good, because Bonnie and Andrew were planning on getting married outside. And the rain held off for the ceremony. But as soon as the happy couple walked down the aisle together, it started to sprinkle. It rained on and off while we were doing the formals. By the time we got back to the tents where the reception was to be held, it was pouring. Torrential rain. Puddles and mud and hardly able to see across the clearing to where the ceremony had been held earlier in the day. In fact, it only let up when I looked out and sighed and mentioned to one of the bridesmaids that I had always wanted to take photos of someone in a dress dancing in the road in the rain. She said she’d love to do it, and just like that, it stopped pouring, though it continued to sprinkle for the next few hours or so.
But the rain did not dampen anyone’s spirits. Shoes were soaking, dresses muddy and most everyone was soaked to the skin by the time the dancing started, but boy, did this crew know how to kick back and let loose! When I finally left at midnight (driving through near-torrential rain that had decided to start up again), the party was just getting going. I went through two complete outfits, nearly dropped my camera into a mud puddle (which I slipped and landed in myself), and had a complete blast!