Beneath the swaying Spanish moss there hung a sweet redolence on the morning air. From the coast it came not, instead a lingering scent of unknown origins. Perhaps there is some strange element to love that causes all senses to be enhanced for a few moments within a lifetime. Maybe the perplexing presence of it causes us to stop being and begin living. I heard once from some sad fool that love is blind, but I have discovered it to be very much wide eyed and glistening, mirrors of a coruscating sun fiery within its un-ending pupils. I have stared into the countenance of love many a time, yet as a photographer, I fall short of capturing it in the way which my soul observes. Perhaps that is why I continue to photograph weddings, for the thrill of the chase.

I cannot say that I know everything there is to know, such a statement would be complete folly, but I am aware of the fact that beneath the swaying Spanish moss there hung a sweet redolence in the morning air. I am quite sure that it was the essence of excitement, nervousness, and happiness, three emotions inspired by this ever lovely thing known only to me as love. I heard not any mentioning of the scent among any others, a recollection that now leaves me to ponder if perhaps it was all in my head, a side effect from being a pure romantic.