Honeymoon
July 5th 2004
Asheville, NC
Well, we did it!
On Wednesday June 23rd, a Justice of the Peace told Sue and I
that forevermore we have to be kind and loving and respectful to each other.
She reminded us that together we would have the capacity to experience far
greater things than if we were apart. In a nook overlooking the Green
Mountains at the Hildene Estate in Manchester, Vermont where descendants of
Abraham Lincoln played as children, we said our vows and exchanged rings.
Heavy rain the day before had cleared the air of humidity and dust, leaving
in its wake a crisp, shining bluebird sky.
We hadn’t desired a big wedding. In fact, we talked of eloping - of just the “courthouse and a witness” kind of ceremony. But months ago when Sue’s mom took her aside and said she supported us eloping if only we would take her with us, we then considered inviting the immediate family as well. So without overly planning every detail, the pieces came together in a most inspired and spontaneous way. Things like Sue’s dress and my tie arrived perfectly at the eleventh hour. When there seemed to be no flowers at all blooming in the fields around Manchester, Sather and I went and gathered chicory, vetch, clover, daisies, grasses and cattails for a wild bouquet. All the family was on best behavior. It was one of those times where everyone seemed elevated in heart and spirit.
We didn’t plan to “go” on a honeymoon; I think the honeymoon came to us. The mood of the next two weeks was infused not only with the afterglow of marriage festivities, but also with the peak of energy that the time between summer solstice and July’s full moon creates. We rolled right along the following week visiting friends and playing gigs. We had a date in the recording studio for our new album Native Soil, and another date with a photographer for publicity shots and CD artwork. Our friends Dottie and Stan hosted a music party for us, and to top it off we made a two-day trip up to Maine for a gig with a little camping on the way. Sure enough, over Lake St. George as the sun was setting and we lit our fire, a full moon, the deep amber color of honey, rose over the lake.
Calais, Maine lies upon the tidal banks of the St. Croix River at the border of Canada, and reminds me remarkably of Newport, Vermont where I ran my bakery for five years. It’s an old shipbuilding waterfront town now with many empty storefronts, yet young trees have been planted along the Main Street. It boasts a beautiful newly built Heritage Center in hopes of attracting tourism from the constant stream of travelers that cross the border. My heart went out to this slightly seedy, but full-of-promise little town. Here we played our final engagement of the tour in a shop called My Favorite Things. It will be thanks to entrepreneurs like Carl and Melissa Royer who persuaded Sue and I to drive up and sing for the folks of Calais. Their vision and energy reinvigorates places such as these. It was worth the long drive to the “end of the world.”
From Calais we turned south and drove home to Asheville in two long days. Fourth of July weekend holiday traffic was backed up in the northbound lanes all through New Hampshire and Massachusetts. We were so glad we weren’t amongst them. Within “Moby,” our white, not-so-mini Caravan, Susan, Sather, Cider, and all our stuff cruised out of New England, crossed the Tappan Zee Bridge over the Hudson River, descended into New Jersey, and took a left onto 78 into Pennsylvania where, in Shippensburg, we found a room at the Budget Inn and fell asleep to the distant sound of the local Saturday night stock car race.
We made it home in the late afternoon, and with helpless momentum unpacked the van and put the house in order. A couple of beers and a video later we sat out on the front porch and watched the fireworks burst over downtown Asheville. The fireworks seemed an appropriate echo for all the celebrating we had done this past month. For now in this warm, early July night, we sat married, transformed, and changed just so.
Thanks again for reading. See you next month!
- Dana