Some love stories just find you.

Emily and Sierra (she/her, she/her) came across my work on TikTok, and a few months later, I was flying across the country into the golden arms of Virginia in October, where Shenandoah National Park was drenched in amber, rust, and fire. The trees were turning. The hills rolled on endlessly. Magic was already in the air before the day even began.

They’d rented a rustic Airbnb tucked up in the mountains, the kind of place that feels quiet even when it’s full of people. It was just them and their closest circle-family, friends, and their tiny dachshund, who proudly walked down the aisle as the flower girl.

Their first look happened on the back patio, overlooking the trees. No noise, no distractions-just that moment. You could feel the nerves
leave their bodies the second they saw each other.
The ceremony was raw and intimate. Vows that cracked their voices. Cheers, laughter, full-body hugs. The kind of love that doesn’t ask to be seen, but insists on being felt.
That night as the sun slipped behind the hills, they found themselves alone in the kitchen, hands clasped.

No witnesses (except me hi). Just the soft sound of the song they first said I love you to playing quietly from a phone speaker on the counter.

They stood forehead to forehead, hands clasped, whispering I love you between soft giggles as the sun poured through the kitchen windows. Barefoot, wrapped in each other, the world fell away. It wasn’t planned. It wasn’t posed. Just one of those fleeting, golden moments that imprints itself quietly- forever.

The next day, we wandered into Shenanadoah just as the sun began its slow descent. The forest was glowing- trees drenched in yellow, leaves crunching underfoot, light pouring through the branches like honey.

It felt like stepping into a storybook.

Emily and Sierra ran through the woods hand in hand, breathless with laughter, leaves catching in their hair. There was no posing, no direction-just movement, joy, the kind of childlike freedom that only happens when you’re completely safe in love.

They twirled under beams of light, ducked between trees, kissed without thinking. It was playful and soft and surreal. Like the forest had opened up just for them—for this.
As blue hour settled over the mountains, we found an overlook that felt like the world had exhaled. The ridgelines stretched for miles, layered in soft blue, the sky fading into something quiet and still.

They sat across from each other, as they reread their vows- no audience this time, just them. They daydreamed out loud about the forever they finally got to start.

After the light disappeared completely, they danced in the headlights of the car. No music. Just gravel beneath them, dust in the air, and the kind of silence that doesn’t ask to be filled.

And I stood a little ways back, camera in hand, letting it all unfold.

This experience with them was not just a memory—it was a beginning of it all.