Love-in the Rocks

With little or no agenda we set out, Stevie and I, for an early morning breakfast overlooking the Pacific Ocean with a Santa Barbara point-of-view. Followed by a walk upon the sand—prefaced by a read-out-loud entry of May 3rd from The Book of Awakenings—author Mark Nepo. My arms will not tire from raising the glass of appreciation for this modern-day sage and the moment the title jumped from where I first saw his book on a coffee table and into my heart.

The prologue, inserted here, is necessary in order to fully digest and appreciate the (unplanned by us) universal and miraculous events that were about to unfold, literally appearing in a path of rocks. The rocks, unlike the kind you stumble over—were smooth, yielding and symbolic in foundational support to a miracle in the making.

Prologue: Pre-breakfast conversation hovered around love and relationships. Heterosexual, bi-sexual and homosexual and my long-time thoughts on how it shouldn't matter who you love, but more important, how you love. And the societal prominence of labeling love and relationships, the prejudice and judgment bastardizing the only thing that we need...love. Ahhhh, pre-breakfast conversation—in the deep end of the pool, right where I like it!

Our walk along the rippling tide produced beautiful gifts newly freed from the sea and a few that showed themselves, but were not quite ready for the souvenir of taking. Each of us found a heart-shaped rock, honed in asymmetry and, when placed vertically in the sand for their photo op, their shapes cast out as shadows in heart-shaped perfection. Click, click—preserved by the camera. Slip, slipped into the pocket of my bag as treasure.

With our barefoot impressions erased, as quickly as they were made, the journey along the shoreline in forward motion presented more gifts. The living mollusk in its seaside nautical home, the lobster trap—trapped between rocks and a hard place, and other rocks bored through in curious circular designs. Each step softened and surrounded with feelings of pure joy, walking hand-in-hand with another, in wonder and awe of this moment.

The two-hour parking restriction marked our memory of time, and we began the trek back over where we had just been and—not been. The waves had gently smoothed over the past. My sandy feet begged for a washing—we have time. An out-of-the-way shower brought into view a rock-constructed stairway; my photographer's eye set its sight at the top where lacy openings allowed the blue sky to pierce through in glorious contrast. "Do we have time to go up there?" Stevie following behind—honoring and encouraging my child-like ways. "We have time." He says. "We have time." The depth of irony parked behind those words. For another essay.

This moment is a bit of a blur for me, as I was in my photographer's Zen place. Two women meet us on the stairs; we make room for them to climb up. There is a polite exchange between Steve and them that splashed quickly into a deep dive of human emotion, connection and compassion. I was pulled in. If there had been clouds in the sky, and I'm not joking when I say this—they would have parted the skies, with trumpets loudly playing as sunbeams from the heavens shined a bright light of love upon this place in the rocks.

The women, both weary and teary-eyed, began a tale of their postponed wedding plans to one another as one of their moms had suffered a stroke and they flew out from Boston to be with her. She lay in a nearby hospital in an induced coma. They had come to the beach for a respite from the heaviness of all that was before them, making their way from the very beach we had moments before been walking along, to the rock structure that had caught my eye. The disappointment of their altered wedding plans and the sadness in the news of the mom, who would have been flying to Boston to attend their wedding. We could feel their pain.

Stevie and I turn to each other, without a word or deliberation, through a mutually unspoken eye-balled agreement—he says to them, "Well, I can marry you?" "And Lori is a photographer." They can't believe it, I mean, who would? There we were—Steve, who has performed wedding ceremonies in the past, and me, who by all accounts is a professional photographer—albeit equipped only with my iPhone 5S. The conversation from there exploded into full glow serendipitous disclosure as we prepare for a wedding in the rocks. I'm multi-tasking with a keen ear listening in on the wedding prep between Steve and the ladies, while looking for the right angles, direction of light and positions to document the event. Right here, right now—this is happening! This is neither the time nor place to pause and wonder, or question the timing. The right thing to do—the only thing to do, is to flow through the moment handed down on the wings of angels. Ceremony conducted. Vows and rings exchanged, as raw and unrehearsed as you can imagine. Wishing I had with me my "All You Need is Love" sign and quickly realized that love—was all that was up there on the rock-solid wedding platform.

Following the ceremony, which I was witness to, photographer and videographer of (Apple iPhone ad coming soon), we sat on the steps of the rock cathedral—sharing the stories between the four of us. How we came to arrive at the same place at the same time. The events and conversations that prefaced our meeting. We hugged, cried, and smiled in the glory of the miracle—swapping business cards (equally as synchronistic) for future connection. “And if you’re ever in Boston,” they said, to which we replied, “We’re there next month!” And another connection unfolded.

To give words to what all of this has meant is equal to giving God/Universe a definition of boundary. So I won't.

As the four of us descended our communal place of "Love-in the Rocks" I lifted my arms overhead in the air and shouted "I love miracles!"

I really do you know.

Just before we parted ways, I felt this tug to give away the two heart-shaped rocks Stevie and I found earlier as a wedding present. In mutual consent the two rocks that had paved our way to this moment, slipped their way up and out of my treasure bag and into the hearts and hands of two beautiful women who needed them much more than we did.

Love will forever be embedded in those rocks.