A family wedding brought us to Montana, so yesterday we gathered on the banks of the Gallatin River (of A River Runs Through It fame) to celebrate the bride and groom as they begin their life together. The vows were handwritten and heartfelt. I’ve known the bride since she was born, and her parents since before they were married.

Later, in a tent under the vast northern sky, we ate and drank and danced until the band stopped playing. The bride had hauled her couch down to the meadow for photographs, and the sight of that familiar piece (I’ve seen it in Indianapolis and Missoula and now here, in Big Sky) and the bride’s father’s toast likening marriage to a river brought all the circle-of-life feelings to an intense and memorable pitch.

The professional photographer didn’t want us snapping many shots of our own, but I couldn’t not take this picture. To me, it says it all.