On a rainy late October day, I married my best friend — the man I’d chosen to spend my life with — beneath a trio of pecan trees arranged like a cathedral along the Concho River in San Angelo, Texas. One year ago today I stepped into the dress that moved me to tears, raised a glass of champagne, and admired the place on my left ring finger where my simple wedding band now rests. I felt truly grateful for the day and for the beautiful design of our lives.
We knew rain was possible, and we planned for both an outdoor ceremony and a barn reception. That fall, however, brought unusually heavy rains and significant flooding across Texas — flooding that even reached usually dry parts of San Angelo. Our wedding planners worked tirelessly to keep everything on track, but when the mud proved thicker than expected, plans had to adapt. Still, I wanted the ceremony under the pecan trees. To me, the weather felt like a meaningful part of the day, not a disruption, and we were determined to embrace it.
Because the mud made it impossible for our hired trolleys to ferry roughly 200 guests down the hillside, we opened the bar early and invited our friends and family to settle into the barn. Our wedding party and immediate family squeezed into a few available four-wheel trucks and rode the 500 yards down the hill to the ceremony site. It was wet, messy, and unexpectedly magical.
My father and I were the last to make the downhill trip. He arrived in his first car, a bright red 1968 Ford he last painted in 1986 — the year I was born. He walked me down an aisle formed by oak church pews, surrounded by the people who matter most to us, including our beloved dog Gus. Our preacher, unfortunately, had been stranded by rising water, so two close friends stepped in to officiate. Exactly as it should have been, we exchanged vows while the rain sounded on the leaves above, shared our first kiss as husband and wife, and walked back up the hill together.
The rest of the evening turned into a joyful celebration. We danced in our damp clothes, laughed with loved ones, and enjoyed a delicious gluten-free wedding cake. Despite — or perhaps because of — the rain and mud, the night felt intimate, alive, and unforgettable.
This day remains one of my favorite memories: a reminder that meaningful moments don’t depend on perfect weather, only on the people gathered and the promise being made. For anyone planning an outdoor wedding, our experience showed that flexibility, good planning, and a willing heart can turn surprises into beautiful memories.
I’ll share vendor details and a full thank-you list later this week, but for now here is a photo recap of the day. These images capture the mood, the laughter, and the small moments that made our wedding so special.
Photos by: Jana Williams