Another year, another wedding in a (different) Cambridge college. Memories from last Saturday. Driving down the A14 with a car full of flowers. Arriving and laying them out as waiters polished glasses and straightened cutlery. Dark wood, white tablecloths, an exquisite cake, regal in the corner, hand-decorated by the bride. A chapel ceremony, the soaring voices of the choir, eyes prickling as the vows were spoken (hopeless Romatic at heart). The bride, stunning in a dress she'd had made from a 1950s Vogue pattern. No confetti allowed on the immaculate college lawns, so the guests all blew bubbles instead, hundreds of them, that filled Front Court and brought to mind a Tim Walker photograph. Drinks in the Scholars garden, cut short by the rain. Running for shelter under giant cream umbrellas. Dinner in the Great Hall, snapping open handmade favours - Fortune Cookies each containing a lottery ticket. Speeches and applause, the cutting of the cake. Emerging into the courtyard for group photos, the last of the evening sunshine hitting neighbouring Kings College Chapel, turning it gold. Dancing in the old wine cellars, coloured lights on bare brickwork, dark alcoves, the bride changing out of heels and into cream All Stars. Leaving finally to head back to the hotel, the scent of lavender and old stone in the darkness as we waited for our taxi ride.
The next morning, returning to collect the swans, a slight sense of loss that it was all over.
Photos by M and I