A Lower-Lawn Ceremony at Olema House: 51 Guests in Point Reyes

The Lower-Lawn Ceremony at Olema House

The ceremony was on the lawn. White folding chairs went out in a broad arc on the grass, ringed by trees, a small floral touch on the aisle chairs, and a simple dark metal arch dressed in greenery at the front. A guitarist played the wedding party in. Carlos walked first, then the bridesmaids and groomsmen came down in alternating pairs, followed by two young flower boys together. Gabby came last, on both her parents' arms.

A guest read a passage during the ceremony. When it came time for the vows, Gabby passed her bouquet to her brideman, Harry, and stood with Carlos while the officiant led them through under the arch. They exchanged rings, and the guitarist played them back up the aisle married. The lawn sits low against the creek and the tree line, and 51 chairs filled it without ever feeling packed.

“Gabby came last, on both her parents' arms, down an aisle with flowers on every chair.”

Family Portraits Along Olema Creek

Cocktail hour followed with the guitarist still playing, while Gabby and Carlos slipped away for family portraits and couple photos. Olema House sits along Olema Creek at the edge of Point Reyes National Seashore, the creek running through the property, the lawn and the trees giving a 51-guest family roster room to spread without anyone having to travel far.

Portraits ran through the garden and down toward the water as the afternoon settled, the whole party moving easy across the grounds while the light stayed warm.

Speeches, First Dance, and the Tavern

Dinner started after the couple was announced in, at a long table under trees strung with warm lights and warmed by patio heaters as the evening cooled, enough that some guests pulled shawls over their shoulders. The speeches ran long and full. Gabby's dad played a song on guitar, and toasts came from Carlos's mom, Gabby's brideman, one of Carlos's groomsmen, Gabby's sister, and Carlos's uncle. Gabby and Carlos gave a toast of their own on the picnic patio, and then they cut the cake, a two-tier semi-naked white cake trimmed with pink and blue blooms and greenery, one delighted kid in a blue velvet cape claiming the first slice.

Gabby and Carlos stepped out for a few last portraits as the light dropped, then came back for the first dance, a father-daughter dance, and a dance between Carlos and his mom. When the night wound down, everyone walked next door to Due West Tavern, a Gold Rush-era building from the 1860s on the same property, its low-ceilinged barroom the right size for 51 people who still had things to say to each other. The dancing kept going there, the creek audible through the open door, until the evening finally ran out.