911

The waxing Harvest Moon wedding and counter terrorist event began with a bagpiper and, of course, ended with a kiss.

After all the rain, the festivities were held in a remote-for-New England farm under a dry sky.

Hay bales draped with colorful blankets made for soft seating for the witnesses at the edge of a newly mown field.

Jim wore his all-purpose suit and I found my all-purpose dress.  I was sneezing before the toast, but the whisky dimmed both the allergens and the allergic.

 The latest fractal was in the form of the table setting.

 Big ivory balloons foretold the moon rising.

Beautiful.