Last August, Amy and Lawrence got married at Amy’s family cottage in Georgian Bay. Not a “styled to look like a cottage” venue. The actual cottage. The one where Amy grew up, spent her summers, and probably learned at a very young age how to carry three plates at once and survive on sunscreen and snacks.
The day felt exactly like a great summer weekend, just with better outfits and a wedding license. Friends and family gathered the way they always had, wandering between conversations, drinks in hand, shoes optional. Sunflowers showed up loud and proud, adding a pop of joy and a subtle reminder that this was never going to be a muted, overly serious kind of day.
Sebastian was right in the middle of everything, as he should be. Not tucked away or scheduled into a single moment, but fully part of the story. The kind of presence that keeps things honest and reminds everyone what actually matters when the timeline starts feeling a little flexible.
Dinner was a proper cottage BBQ. The good kind. Food that tastes better eaten outside, surrounded by people you love, with no one pretending they’d rather be anywhere else. Plates were full, conversations were louder than planned, and the pace stayed blissfully unbothered.
And then there was the sunset. Georgian Bay doing what it does best, showing off just enough to make everyone pause mid-sentence. The light softened, the air cooled, and the day slowly slipped into evening without needing to be announced.
This wedding wasn’t about perfection or performance. It was about history, family, and letting the day unfold the way it wanted to. A little messy, deeply meaningful, and very much lived in.
Amy and Lawrence didn’t just get married here. They added one more unforgettable memory to a place already full of them. And honestly, that’s the best kind of wedding there is.
