Once upon our home.

I've been receiving emails from readers asking for inspiration or looking for advice for their own unique and down to earth weddings. One that recently popped up in my inbox was from a bride looking for a coastal vintage theme. I was so excited to help her brain storm ideas since I grew up on the ocean, but it got me thinking. It got me remembering what was my home was long ago, and what it was again when I got to share it with Evan, and what I hope my home will someday be.

After a year of choosing to be apart, Evan and I were finally committed again but physically separated by 1,000 miles. It was the summer of me living in Portland while he was working the season in Alaska, my original home. Neither of us made the jump to be in the same place, but instead looked forward to the fall when logic and timing said we would finally be together again. After a few months I went up to visit him and after long plane trip and ferry ride I was back in his arms, and he was hot. Not cool-guy-guitar-playing-city-bar-hopping hot anymore, he had transformed into Alaskan hot. That entitles carharts, work boots, scruffy beard, baseball cap, strong muscles from hard labor, and the visible peace at the end of the day from putting in a full days work and having his woman to come home to. He was (and still is) my dream guy. It felt so right to be home with him, I was packed up and ready to move a month later. The rest of the summer was one of our best.

My sister and I grew up differently. I've mentioned before the words "rural" and "Alaska", but I haven't mentioned homeschooling, float planes, monthly grocery runs, helicopters, logging, skiff rides, islands, seals, float camps, cabins, wolves, deer, otters, blue herons, fishing, fresh shrimp, frozen bays, northern lights, seiners, cave exploring, swimming holes, foggy mornings, and stormy days on end. I haven't mentioned anything because it's something so special and so dear to my heart, it's something I don't talk about that often, especially in Arizona.

It's different up there. There's a raw beauty that's untouchable. There's the days and weeks of blowing rain sideways, suddenly disappearing from your memory with the short appearance of sunshine and the delight of discovering a new world around you. Filled with green forests and overflowing moss, jagged beaches and pure water, whales breaching and ravens and crows dipping and diving around eagles to steal their catch. I spent my childhood exploring this world. Evan came up one summer and it captured a part of his heart, a piece of it I'm willing to share.

We spent a few days that June out at a remote forest service cabin. We chopped wood, stoked fires, cooked dinners and played cards with whiskey. We hiked through ferns covered with rain drops, and breathed in the fresh, crisp, pure, revitalizing, cool air. We looked over the absolute calm waters of the lake. We enjoyed nothing but nature around us.

I miss that feeling, I don't have it here in Tucson. But after making the leap to move up there with him after that visit, I've had a piece of it with me ever since, being back with him. Evan get's it, and we both crave it. But most importantly we crave each other, and that's the substance we live off of. Now, we may be headed off on a new adventure, leaving the desert behind and home even further away. Headed into uncharted territory. Although I've leaped eagerly before into new adventures, I can't help but be hesitant to leave the familiar to step into the wide unknown. But I'm doing it with my partner, for the first time we're in it together. The one who wasn't with me in my childhood paradise, but was able to experience enough to get what is such an integral part of who I am and what I thrive off of. What my heart longs for and what I get homesick for. What, when there is something that turns the still waters of my life, is what I want to run to. The peace, the quiet, the untouched beauty, the majority of land still safe from the hands of man and modern technology.

The home I grew up in is sold and has new owners. It's painted, relocated, but carries the same name. I'm more in awe of my parents when I look back on my life as a little girl running around barefoot and jumping into the freezing ocean, spending hours exploring the wilderness with her sister and their two best canine friends. I hope one day I can be as lucky as them to have my own piece of paradise with my husband, and our family. But doesn't everyone hope for that dream?

all pics via me