Thank God, Horses Don’t Fly

I was photographing the wedding party on the lawn of Osgoode Hall. No dark clouds were overhead, but the day’s forecast predicted rain. The Bride seemed uneasy, so I tried to finish the photo session quickly. I instructed the Bride to sit on a nearby bench under a willow tree. She nervously glanced up at the tree and then turned her eyes to the Groom.

The Groom smiled at her and then shook his head. She sat on the bench and then finally turned her eyes towards me. She smiled.

There was something different about this Bride. Most of the brides I’ve photographed had a certain amount of butterflies flitting about in their stomachs, but I could not place the source of her anxiety. I’ve seen enough “bridezillas” in my work to know that weddings don’t always bring out the best in people. I understand this because of the obscene amount of planning and money involved in getting this spectacle off the ground. So many things can go wrong, and so many things are out of your control. Most brides will redefine their expectations, compromise and rely on their creativity to achieve their goals. Then some will stop at nothing to bend the universe to their will because “This is my day, and I’ll be damned if it isn’t perfect.”

“Do I have to stand so close to the wall?” the Bride asked when I photographed the wedding party by one of the old buildings. She studied the ground and then scanned the ledge before entering. The Groom whispered something in her ear and then kissed her on the cheek. She softened, looked up without lifting her head, and then turned her attention to me. She smiled.

“I promise this will all end happily,” I said, annoyed by her excessive preoccupation with the weather. “What are you so afraid of, sweetie?”
“Bird shit,” she said matter-of-factly. “No amount of planning can prevent that.”