Stories from The River Runs Through
Coffee. Creativity. Ceremony. The land. Becoming.
And the occasional story about something I probably should have known better than to attempt.
There are stories about the things we make, the things we inherit, the things that surprise us, and the things that change us.
Come wander awhile.
How I Accidentally Became a Wedding Officiant
Long before this became The River Runs Through, when it was simply twenty-nine acres, an old farmhouse, and a dream, I had already decided this was going to be a place where people gathered.
Some people dream about gardens.
Some dream about horses.
Apparently, I dreamed about weddings.
I've always been fascinated by them.
The dresses.
The flowers.
The invitations.
The table settings.
The old barns transformed into magical reception spaces.
The traditions.
The symbolism.
The promises.
That's a rather long list, which probably tells you two things.