A Historic Inn Micro Wedding at the Old Monterey Inn

An Evening Ceremony in the Monterey Inn Garden

The ceremony was outside, in the deep green of the inn's garden — wooden folding chairs set on the lawn among tall trees and redwoods, brick pathways threading through the beds, the late sun coming down dappled through the canopy. Guests were seated to live strings and brass: a prelude of "Can't Help Falling in Love," Satie's Gymnopédie, and Clair de Lune, then Edelweiss as the family took their seats.

Rev. Kimberly Cope stood at the arch. David walked in first — blue suit, navy bow tie, his dark hair pulled back — then the flower girls came down with their baskets, and Anissa followed on her father's arm to Wagner's Bridal Chorus, handing her bouquet to her mom before the vows. It was quick: vows, rings, and the walk back out to Mendelssohn's Wedding March, the strings carrying Handel and Bach behind them, guests clapping from the chairs on both sides. The two of them stayed a few minutes more to sign and witness the marriage license right there in the garden.

“Anissa on her father's arm to Wagner's Bridal Chorus, handing her bouquet to her mom before the vows.”

Family Portraits in the Gardens of a Historic Inn

Family and couple portraits happened around the property while cocktail hour got going. The Old Monterey Inn was built in 1929 for Carmel Martin Sr., Monterey's first elected mayor, and it sits in more than an acre of gardens planted with roughly a hundred trees — Monterey pines, California oaks, and tall redwoods among them.

Anissa and David walked the brick paths and the lawns as the afternoon light softened toward evening, Brian Lima working the couple through the greenery and the shaded corners of the garden. There was one quiet stretch of just the two of them on a brick path under the trees before the family gathered in for group photos.

Dinner, Toasts, and Three Dances

Dinner followed on the garden patio, long tables set under the trees with chiavari chairs, pink linens, and low arrangements of coral and peach roses running down the center, candles between them, a pyramid heater standing by for when the evening cooled. The two-piece floral arch had come apart and reappeared on the tables. When the champagne was poured, David gave the thank-you toast and then opened the floor to the table, so the speeches came from the people closest to them — a grandmother beaming from her seat, family leaning in across the flowers.

The dancing was three songs, each one chosen: a father-daughter dance to Louis Armstrong's "What a Wonderful World," a mother-son dance to "The Jitterbug Waltz," and Anissa and David's first dance to "God Only Knows." They cut a Sweet Reba's cake as the sun dropped, and the evening stayed on the property, under the trees, until the last of the light was gone.