The sun descends on the city lit horizon. Buildings glow in the dimming light, reflect rays of warmth onto an already glowing bride, her cheeks increasingly pinkish with blush and emotion as she stands under the Hoopa, dressed in white ornamented silk with hair curled; strands threaded together tight not unlike the silver Claddaugh ring about to descend her finger.
So special is this one moment she dares not breath, dares not blink. takes in every aroma around her: sea salt from the bay and sweet cake from the celebration inside; sensitive to the most minute movement of silver sliding onto skin, each hair sliding back in ecstatic submission to the welcomed new resident.
Dozens watch but this moment is theirs as they give themselves to each other with ancient phrases repeated throughout time; this time it is theirs to say and theirs to hear and theirs to remember, etch deep into their memory, forever.