Fezler Blog and Photos: October Wedding

Close your eyes for a moment. (wait, now you can’t read this can you?). Okay, never mind. Relax for a moment and imagine if you will, a sound - a musical sound. Ominous at first and then… catchy. Like the Harlem Globetrotters on Gilligan’s island, you wonder why they are there – but then start to enjoy it so much you don’t mind the lapse in plot and eventual demise of our castaway formula. So too this sound will be tasteless at first, but then it will propel you into the past (doollooloo loo – dooloolooloo) the image in front of you becomes wavy and BAM! You are back at the beginning of October.

It’s a cold winter’s day. El Nino (or is it la Nina this year?) – has created a winter snowstorm at the beginning of October. The sky is overcast and heavy – bulging with a heavy cold that weighs it down like a wet blanket on the sky, a slanket that wraps its arms all the way around the mountains and plains. It’s the kind of day you want to stay in bed to enjoy. Today however, is Kirsten’s wedding day. You’re at an age now where the week, the month, the year is broken down not into mile stones (I lost my first tooth, I started school, I turn 16) but rather into events to coordinate a wardrobe or dinner around. Today is such an event. You’ve bought a pretty blue dress and actually (gasp) curled your hair. The wedding is at a little church just on the outskirts of Boulder. The church is old – old enough to have a black furnace in the middle and candles as the only artificial light source. The wood floors creek and the puritan-eque pews moan with each shifting body. The ceremony is lovely (as ceremonies tend to be), and the bride is beautiful (as brides tend to be). And you know that it is more than just love radiating throughout the church – it is the joy of a crowd ready to celebrate – the kind of celebration that can only be consummated with rich food and plentiful alcohol.

And so you tip toe out the church and through the crispy snow in your dangerously high heeled shoes and drive with your friends to the Greenbrier. A restaurant that could be centuries old – that could be resting on the top of a mountain, all wood and rich warmth. It reminds you of being inside a fireplace, or walking through the country bear jamboree. It is nestled on the side of the foothills – but feels secluded and quaint. The Greenbrier also creeks like the pew and the church, but not in respectful silence, but in a creaky chatter, adding to the conversations among guests. Wine and Beer, along with pate and bruchetta are passed around and cheers erupt as Kirsten and James signal the parties’ official commencement with their arrival. The evening flows into scattered images. New York strip steak with blue cheese – a cake that looks like Boston’s Fenway Park – Aunt Kathy, who, a little too inebriated for her own good tries to cut in during the first dance! - The most interesting man in the world “Steve”, with friends laughing around him. Photos, cigars, - Dancing, always Dancing.

And as the evening wears on – and your feet start to ache and the music slows to a stop… you have already begun to reminisce and look forward to the next wedding – and hope it will be as good as this one.