april and thomas welcomed us into their circle of friends with open arms and huge smiles. we enjoyed a wonderful week in san diego before their wedding day. since we were in town beforehand we were able to connect with these two for drinks and pizza a couple times before their big day. we felt so lucky to get to know these two better as we chatted during a lovely sunset, heard funny stories from old friends and witnessed their beautiful wedding ceremony. my favorite moment of our time together was watching april and thomas walk down the aisle, together hand and hand, eager to vow forever.

we were thrilled when we heard that april was going to share her wedding story on the blog a practical wedding. we photographed meg's wedding the author of "a practical wedding" this summer, so were quite excited to see what these two would come up with for april's "wedding graduate" post. april candidly shared her story and wrote about the challenges she faced while planning their wedding. despite many changes in plans and stressful moments, their wedding ended up being exactly what they set out to create, a celebration of friendship and one fantastic reunion!

i first heard the poem below at alison and gareth's wedding this fall. i have since read it many times because i just love the tone. when i first met april and thomas and heard their sweet collection of silly stories, i thought of this poem. their humor and way of communicating seemed "superbly situated".

superbly situated
by robert hershon

you politely ask me not to die and i promise not to
right from the beginning—a relationship based on
good sense and thoughtfulness in little things

i would like to be loved for such simple attainments
as breathing regularly and not falling down too often
or because my eyes are brown or my father left-handed

and to be on the safe side i wouldn’t mind if somehow
i became entangled in your perception of admirable objects
so you might say to yourself: i have recently noticed

how superbly situated the empire state building is
how it looms up suddenly behind cemeteries and rivers
so far away you could touch it—therefore i love you

part of me fears that some moron is already plotting
to tear down the empire state building and replace it
with a block of staten island mother/daughter houses

just as part of me fears that if you love me for my cleanliness
i will grow filthy if you admire my elegant clothes
i’ll start wearing shirts with sailboats on them

but i have decided to become a public beach an opera house
a regularly scheduled flight—something that can’t help being
in the right place at the right time—come take your seat

we’ll raise the curtain fill the house start the engines
fly off into the sunrise, the spire of the empire state
the last sight on the horizon as the earth begins to curve