Morgan Trinker

Almost a year ago now, I got an email from a girl named Niurka. She explained that she lived in New York and had seen the images I posted from Leila and Vidur’s wedding in Asheville last October and was wondering if I might be interested in coming to Vermont to shoot her December wedding. Cue me hyperventilating and squealing like a teenage girl. Are you kidding me?! I was over the MOON about the idea of shooting a winter wonderland, Norman Rockwell meets Andy Warhol, romantic, Christmas-y wedding. And to think that she was ready to book after seeing the third wedding I had ever shot… I almost felt like I should talk her out of it, that there was no way I was prepared or capable enough to shoot such an amazing event. But after talking to her on the phone, it just felt… right. There’s no way to explain it really. We hit it off right away, and I just knew from speaking to her that she was the sweetest person and had all the faith in the world in me. It’s that kind of crazy faith that continues to open up door after door for me. Such a humbling realization.

So anyway, I’ll get to the wedding later. (I’m currently in the process of submitting it to some blogs, and they don’t always like the images being shared anywhere on the interwebz before they feature them. So as soon as I know for sure, I’ll post away!) Suffice it to say that I’ve been waiting for this all year long, and now I’m sitting here in disbelief that it’s already over. :( Until I can share, though, I wanted to at least post some photos I took in and around the town of Waitsfield, where we stayed. This weekend was amazing on so many levels, even beyond the wedding itself. Jamie and I met some crazy awesome people and had some great experiences crammed into the 36 hours we were there.

When we first drove into town on Friday afternoon, it was already getting dark outside (by 4:15, the sky was basically black). As we headed down the windy mountain roads, passing sleepy, snowy houses and barns with windows lined in twinkling Christmas lights, I honestly felt like I was in a scene straight out of a movie. The first thought that came to mind was ohmygosh, we’re in Whoville! There was the town hall, and the elementary school in the clapboard building, and the quaint little antique shops and the cozy restaurants. It was perfect. Absolutely perfect. I couldn’t have imagined a more magical place to be a week before Christmas.

Later that night, after stopping by the Round Barn Inn to meet Niurka and Eric and the wedding party, we settled into our room at the Waitsfield Inn down the road, and then headed to the Purple Moon Pub for dinner and drinks. As we sat at the bar talking to the bartender (who asked us almost immediately if we were in town for “the wedding”… that’s how small the town is- if you’re not a familiar face, people ask who you are and where you’re from), Jamie asked her about a million questions about what exactly people do in Waitsfield. (To clarify, he meant career-wise, not recreation-wise. I think he may’ve offended a few people by blurting out things like that to perfect strangers. That’s Jamie for you. :) ) Then we went back to the inn, where we collapsed in bed at 9 pm. Yeah, we’re cool like that.

On Saturday, after the wedding (which we were done shooting at 4:30 because we started at 6:30 am), we spent the first half of the evening in the great room at the inn, where we cuddled up by a roaring fire, drank cider, and watched Elf while I uploaded all my memory cards and began culling through some of my favorites. John, who, along with his wife Vickie, is the innkeeper, came in and surprised us with a delicious treat that he had made for the other guests at breakfast which we had missed because we had to leave so early. He had made this unbelievable toasted banana over a bed of homemade granola and drizzled in some sort of delicious maple glaze. Just because. And he told us a little bit of his story, about how he and his wife had been corporate lawyers in Southern California and decided that they couldn’t spend the rest of their lives in the rat race. They moved their three kids and two dogs across the country to Vermont and bought the Waitsfield to pursue their dreams. And more power to them! They’re doing an amazing job.

After that, we went out to dinner with Mike and Pedro of Monachetti. They were the cinematography team at the wedding, and we hit it off SO well. Not only did we work really well together, but on a personal level, we felt like we were just old friends with them, kickin’ it in Vermont for the weekend. We discovered that we had a mutual understanding of and appreciation for the sometimes bizarre behaviors and traditions of the Christian crowds we’re apart of (they recounted one bachelor party they went on which consisted of a trip to West Virginia to participate in a Civil War reenactment- which totally sounded like something our own friends would do) and a love for Chris Carrabba. When Jamie asked them if they had heard about Chris reuniting with Further Seems Forever, I thought Mike might honestly poo his pants. I mean, he named his business after the song “Monachetti” from The Moon is Down. That’s serious love right there. (Later Jamie told me how he wished he could find awesome friends like them here in Birmingham, and how he might just need to move to Maryland to go on their weekly “bro nights.” Had we not already moved cross-country twice in a year and a half, I might’ve considered it. Ha.)

After dinner, we went to the after party for the wedding and mingled a bit, but then we headed back to the inn pretty early because we were all pretty exhausted. When we came in, we ran into John, and he took us over to their bar and treated us all to (several) rounds of nightcaps in celebration of a wedding well done. While we tasted his homemade fruit-infused vodkas (which were to die for, and I’m not really even a liquor fan), he cracked us up with stories from his first visits to the South when they began their search for an inn to purchase. So hilarious. We stayed until we couldn’t keep our eyes open anymore, and then finally called it a night. The next morning, we were treated to more of John’s unbelievable food. For breakfast, he made yogurt parfaits with his homemade granola and lemon zest, orange-infused French toast made from the thickest slices of bread I’ve ever seen, and maple-glazed sausages. Out of control. We could definitely get used to this whole staying in bed and breakfasts thing.

Before heading back to the airport, we browsed a bit around town and bought some goodies to take back with us. All but one- the bottle of Vermont maple syrup- made it back in one piece. (Thankfully maple syrup apparently washes out of clothes easy as pie!) I also snapped a few photos to remember this incredible weekend by. Enjoy!