My opa has started calling me Frau Herzog, my new last name. It sounds too old and grown up, and I realize with a jolt that I no longer legally share a last name with the rest of my five siblings. I shock my oma by eating avocado toast (she’s “never really had much use” for avocados) and then at 11pm I stumble on both my grandparents drinking schnapps in the dark, in silence. 

A few days before, I have breakfast with all my siblings (there is a sentence I don’t often write). On a Sunday morning in northwestern Germany, all six of us were together at my grandparents’, stink-eyed glances and sly grins sandwiched between brötchen and butter. This the aftermath of a family reunion which, along with the usual suspects, miraculously welcomed my in-laws and my sister-in-law. 16 of us bicycled through the fields to get to the reunion as my grandfather threatened to buy each of us orange safety vests “to warn others.” I joked that 16 of us on bikes would be warning enough, but still he insisted on wearing one himself, the leader of a band of divinely fortuitous family. 

Does returning to a childhood world as an adult always evoke such hazy, bittersweet feeling? Yes, bittersweetness, and the deep exhalation of a breath I didn’t know I was holding. Riding down the trails I’ve known all my life, for the first time with my husband and his family, was one of the truest full circles I've ever experienced. Moments so perfect and fleeting they were hard to fully absorb; what a feeling to know and be known, to love and be loved.

Jacob and I took a trip throughout Germany—his first, and my…I’ve lost track. A second honeymoon, we called it. In Rüdesheim, a small town on the Rhine river, we walked uphill out of town into the vineyards, still and shimmering in the end-of-day heat. Marriage so far has vacillated on a spectrum with love thick and heavy on one end and pure, momentarily-blinding exasperation on the other. But thankfully, the meter swings more towards the former than the latter, and that night in Rüdesheim I felt out of my mind with adoration. We stumbled upon a heavy-laden cherry tree in the middle of a field, which immediately halted our conversation as we began the hunt for plump, crimson rubies. We ate Chinese takeout on a bench, perhaps the youngest couple in a town full of elderly tour groups; two of the four prongs of Jacob’s plastic fork broke much to our amusement; he told me in the most tender way possible that he was glad to have ended up with me. How to capture the feelings of that pink-tinged 10pm sunset in the vineyards, with his hand holding mine tight? I’m starting to realize that love cannot exist without pain.

To listen while you read

Where to start on the story of one of the biggest, most important days of our lives? January 14th was nearly two and a half months ago, simultaneously yesterday and a lifetime ago. How to describe, let alone process, a day so exhilarating, romantic, overwhelming, exhausting, joyful, sad, sacred, and incandescently wonderful? The day was such an intense high, but as incredible as it was, marriage is so much better. We truly had the wedding of our dreams, though, and it was important to me to chronicle it before the memories start to fade.

We gave ourselves one day shy of six months to plan our wedding. Coming from someone who wasn't the biggest fan of wedding planning, our engagement ended up being the perfect amount of time--long enough to have some breathers, but short enough that we couldn't allow decisions to grow into monsters. When we got engaged, we knew two things fairly quickly: one, we wanted a taco bar, and two, we wanted our wedding to be an intimate, cozy, relaxed weekend hangout with our absolute closest friends and family.

Our first requirement was satisfied when we had a taco bar at our rehearsal dinner, and the second was fulfilled by renting out The Silverpick Lodge for a weekend. The lodge was so spacious and cozy and perfectly matched our vision. All of our guests stayed on the premises for the whole weekend, and since many of our family and friends don't live in Colorado, it was extra special to have our nearest and dearest close by for longer than just the ceremony and reception.

Many people advised us to stay true to ourselves when planning our wedding, so we listened and threw many traditions to the wind. We forewent things like having a bridal party (wonderful, but too much hassle for a small wedding), a first dance (too awkward), cake (we like pies and cheesecakes better), a garter/bouquet toss (too uncomfortable). Pinterest wasn't used for inspiration and I swore off from all wedding blogs and magazines. In the midst of a world where a wedding industry exists, it was really freeing and refreshing to incorporate only the elements we wanted, instead of being pressured into silly traditions the industry says couples "should" do. I was especially thankful that both Jacob's and my families were so generous and open-minded to our non-conforming ways (especially since both of us were the first kids in the families to get married). Planning the wedding was still a lot of work, but it was bearable once we realized that there wasn't much we had to do.

In the days leading up to the wedding, it snowed and snowed and snowed in the mountains. Two days before the wedding, I began to get really anxious as friends texted me their concerns about the weather and questioned their travel plans. But thankfully, even despite the massive amounts of snow, everyone made it to the lodge safely. On that Friday night, worlds collided in the most wonderful way as everyone gathered in the lodge basement to eat tacos and meet each other...and I no longer had to have near-panic attacks about no one showing up to our wedding. ;)

The hours that followed were so magical and bittersweet and surreal. Here, sixty people who traveled all this way to watch us--us! Jacob and Carlotta!--promise our lives to each other. Here, a warm respite of pure love in the midst of the mountains of snow. Here, the ending of our single lives and the beginning of our lives as one. One of my biggest fears was that I'd be stressed and unable to enjoy any of the wedding festivities, but the Lord was kind to me, and I was more relaxed and in-the-moment that I ever thought possible. I was bracing myself for something to go horribly wrong, but somehow there was...nothing (I am forever indebted to our sweet, sweet friends and family that worked so hard to make everything run smoothly). When we weren't getting ready for the wedding, we soaked in hot tubs buried in snow, steamed in the saunas, played games, went sledding/skiing, ate without end, and reveled in each other's company. Then and now, the thing that stands out most is the incredible amount of love present that weekend. Magical is truly the only word to describe it all.

On the morning of the wedding, we woke up to a thick, fresh foot of snow, making everything extra fresh and radiant. Jacob and I ate breakfast together with our friends...and then we got ready for the rest of our lives.

Have a look into the day. *

*All of these photos are by my sweet friend Lydiah, whose praises I cannot sing highly enough (check out her post of our day). Her presence made our perfect weekend even better, and she could not have done a more beautiful job capturing the feel of our day. If you need a kind, chill, professional, above-and-beyond, and freakin' gorgeous photographer for your wedding, look no further. 

I made my bouquet the day before with the help of Jacob's mom and sister, and it was one of the most peaceful moments of the whole weekend.

After getting my hair and makeup done, I really got into bride mode by showing my sister and a few of my friends stupid youtube videos.

Everything started to feel so real when I slipped into the dress that my mama MADE for me. Dress shopping was a nightmare, so we took matters into our own hands...and I'm so glad we did. It was the most comfortable dress with a simplicity and timelessness I know I won't regret.

In the morning, so many of my gal pals crowded into my friend Ellie's room, where I got ready. These girls were my unofficial bridal party and it was the most special time to share with them. I especially appreciated my friend Rachel making sure we were lint-free the entire day (I highly recommend her services).

My fidgety hands right before seeing Jacob are a tell-tale sign of the only time I got really nervous.

Meanwhile, Jacob denied any sign of nerves and looked (looks) dang good.

The moment my nerves went away instantly. I still get butterflies remembering this moment.

Home.

We slipped outside for a few portraits before the insanity began, and I'm so glad we did. I was, rather selfishly, afraid that I'd be/look cold, but I suppose adrenaline and Jacob's velvet coat prevailed, because I wasn't the slightest bit chilly.

All my siblings, in one place. I love them so much I can hardly stand it.

After family portraits and a bit of downtime, I realized the ceremony was a few short minutes away and I had yet to put on my veil. Ellie and I found a quiet spot with a full-length mirror and she fastened on my veil for me. One of the most unplanned, sweetest moments in our friendship, to be sure. 

Just like my dress, veil, and wrap, the ceremony decoration was all my mom's genius. She made the garland out of laurel from her own backyard and created a backdrop even more beautiful than I'd envisioned. Just before the ceremony, a kind soul built the coziest fire in the fireplace.

My favorite flower girl in the entire world, and also our only attendant. She cared more about her binkie, but I suppose that's to be expected when you're only sixteen months old and already under so much pressure.

Heart flutters.

I walked down the aisle with my dad to January Wedding by The Avett Brothers. I've known and loved the song since I was fourteen, and it was so fitting, poignant, and tear-jerking to have it play on my wedding day.

Trying to hold back the tears...and also trying not to trip.

My sweet parents on the left, and my sweet second parents on the right. They are the reasons our wedding was so perfect.

I love looking at the pictures Lydiah took of everyone at the ceremony--I had such tunnel vision the entire time, I had almost no idea where anyone was sitting or how they looked. It is the sweetest gift to have these photos now.

Everything about the ceremony was so vivid at the time, I thought I couldn't possibly forget any of it...but it's already all a blur.

Saying our vows were some of the longest, most intense seconds of my life. We chose to rely on the liturgy rather than write our own vows, and in the moment I was so glad--I didn't know how couples could manage to say, let alone write, their vows without breaking down!

Towards the end of the ceremony, we had communion for the first time as husband and wife to the most beautiful song by Sufjan Stevens.

I honestly didn't remember the kiss, being pronounced husband and wife, and walking back down the aisle to Ends of the Earth by Lord Huron--all such a happy, exhilarating blur!

Signing the marriage license with my dad in newlywed bliss. 

After so many group pictures indoors, we slipped outside...for more pictures ;) it was such a nice, quiet moment to catch our breath after the most intense 45 minutes.

There are no words for how much I love these portraits; I will cherish them forever.

While I was busy getting primped in the morning, everyone else was busy getting this magic set up. I had my heart set on having long family-style tables and sketched out many layout ideas on graph paper (1 graph paper square per square foot, baby). I didn't know whether they could swing it (I'm sure I wasn't the restaurant staff's favorite)...but they did, and I am forever grateful to the Sow's Ear.

View fullsize

View fullsize

I designed and printed our menus a few weeks before, and all the greenery was foraged. Friends and Jacob's mom supplied the candles and lights, and it was the most simple, beautiful arrangement.

View of the alpine glow from the reception.

After the most amazing appetizers in the bar, there was salad, prosciutto-wrapped fontina stuffed chicken breast in sage white wine cream, roasted fingerling potatoes, and braised kale...! 

My dad started off the toasts overjoyed to have another son (you know, to balance out his five daughters).

I managed to keep the tears mostly at bay until Jacob's sister, Gretta, gave her toast...

...and it was all downhill from there. (But in the sweetest way.)

View fullsize

View fullsize

So so so much love.

My youngest sister Lilly said that she wanted to give a toast, but started crying, so she just stood up and yelled "congrats!" instead. My heart.

For dessert, six different kinds of pies and cheesecakes. I hear the leftovers were eaten for breakfast the next morning. We also had a instax guest book; I was on the fence about even having a guest book, but I'm so glad we have a photograph of everyone that was there. With the leftover film, a few friends snapped candids of the reception, and I'm thrilled to have those memories captured.

We had our good friend Jay dj the reception and he did a phenomenal job. Jacob and I were pretty picky about the type of music we wanted played (no stereotypical wedding mix) and Jay went above and beyond. It was incredibly fun to be out on the dance floor with my brand new husband and people I love so much. 

Since Jacob and I didn't do a first dance, I thought the dancing might be slow to get started, but the dance floor went from empty to packed within the first song, and lasted until we left to go home.

Lilly was the star of the show. I have never seen anyone dance so hard in my life.

One of my favorite, most vivid memories of the reception is when Jay played Empire State of Mind and it seemed like everyone was groovin' and singing at the top of their lungs (or maybe that was just me...?).

I love that all our friends got to know and have fun with each other. One of the sweetest feelings.

And at the end, he and I went home...together.

"...love is something we have to learn, and we can make progress with, and that it’s not just an enthusiasm; it’s a skill. And it requires forbearance, generosity, imagination, and a million things besides. And we must fiercely resist the idea that true love must mean conflict-free love, that the course of true love is smooth. It’s not. The course of true love is rocky and bumpy at the best of times. That’s the best we can manage as the creatures we are, that flawed humanity, the better chance we’ll have of doing the true hard work of love."  /  Alain de Botton on the True Hard Work of Love and Relationships

***

A series exploring the newness and intimacy of marriage via roadside curiosities. 35mm film scans shot on a Pentax k1000.

These are the kinds of views that lure us onto another trip, and what makes hitting the road seem suitable for our honeymoon. It's comforting, as always, to know that much of the US is still open and uninhabited, that there is still space to breathe and feel small.

Cacti, my desert muse, to set the scene.

Romantic and rugged, the road looks especially alluring from an overlook in central Arizona.

Here and there, signs of hope thwarted by the desert.

An accidental double-exposure perfectly depicts the dreamy, sun-drenched, luxurious mornings of Palm Springs.

A frothing, churning winter sea awaits us in San Diego; the water is by no means friendly, but it is still rejuvinating.

Bagel sandwiches and strong coffee in our pajamas to lure each other out of groggy morning stupor.

Fierce storms chase us indoors, where Jacob takes his chances with low shutter speeds in dim light.

The Mission Beach boardwalk is eerily deserted in a storm; the few of us that dare to venture onto the beach are quickly asked--unless we want to be struck by lightening--to leave by a megaphoned lifeguard.

In the desert, we opt for our lunch routine of choice: pulling off the side of the road when we see a view we like, then assembling sandwiches from the cooler in the trunk of the car.

All throughout California, towering, alien giants sweep us through their homes.

In a tiny town near the California/Nevada state line, azure sky is in both the heavens and the doors--or maybe that's intentional.

Coming into Death Valley, the land is harsh and colored in a mostly monochromatic, earthen palette. It's hard to imagine what the desolate landscape would be like in oppressive, dangerous July heat.

Towering juxtapositions: on the left, a snowy formation in Zion NP, on the right, a manmade pier patiently waiting for the storms to pass.

Bad weather turns our planned three nights in Joshua Tree turned into one, but we are still lucky enough to catch a purple fading sunset in this magical place.

In Death Valley, the sand dunes from afar almost look made out of concrete. With a relentless wind that sweeps away trails every day, we wander, uninhibited, wherever we please.

The trails in Zion are slick with ice and snow, but we brave them, Jacob my trusty scout.

Some people come to watch the sunset at Zion; I come for the cacti.

We've never seen as many full, complete rainbows as we do on this trip. A good omen for our new lives together?

Our wedding has come and gone, and the only way I can think to describe it is with the word “magical” and a single sigh. At the Colorado mountain lodge where we were married, there was more snow than I’d ever seen before in my life. Even the heavy-laden evergreen trees seemed sacred. I’ll write more about the wedding once my thoughts are more collected and I have a few more photos to share. But for now, I’m permanently living in the mountains now with my husband (!) and our weird dog, Indigo (!). Our house is on the mesa about fifteen minutes south of town, and in the morning when I take Indie out, the sky is impossibly big. Living within view of snow-capped peaks has immediately made me feel more grounded, as has the hard-packed dirt of the county road, and the close proximity to sunrises and sunsets. I can stand in the kitchen and watch a quivering bunny hop along the crust of once-deep snow, or lock eyes with a buck across the yard, his antlers blending in with bare branches. Being married—and not having to ever say goodbye for more than a few hours—is both a relief and a solace, and I'm more than happy to swap wedding planning with boring but somehow exhilarating things like tidying up. 

The day after our wedding, we started slowly making our way west from Colorado until the stormy Pacific prevented us from going further, then looped back around east via Nevada and Utah. Road trips may not be the conventional honeymoon, but when you're a couple who's happiest on the road and the desert beckons from only a few, short hours away, this trip was the ideal, quirky solution to our honeymoon dilemmas. Even with weather that was horrific at times and much colder than expected (thanks California), itineraries that didn’t go quite according to schedule, and creepy campground neighbors I was afraid might kill us in our sleep (think six small white dogs perched on a picnic table in the dark...), I was overwhelmingly grateful and relieved to navigate it all with my best friend (and new husband!). I can't wait to take a million more trips with him. 

Here's a small glimpse in digital images... *

* I made mostly film photographs on the trip, but am waiting for my scans, so stay tuned!

Our first morning spent at the Grand Canyon

Insane morning scenes after a rainy night camping in Joshua Tree National Park

The tram in Palm Springs, CA

Luxurious, sun-drenched morning in Palm Springs

The descent into Death Valley National Park

The turnoff to Badwater Basin, elevation 282 feet below sea level (Jacob likes to joke it was the lowest point in our marriage so far)

The salt flats of Badwater Basin

Sunset at the sand dunes

Snow in Zion National Park

Insane icicles in Zion

A semi-frozen waterfall in Zion

The Watchman at sunset

Monument Valley from Forrest Gump Point