Once again, Ann MacMullan has poetically evoked a joyful wedding reception we designed at the Merion Cricket Club in Haverford, Pennsylvania this past June. The flowers and decor were exceptional and unique but the beauty of the bride far exceeded any design we could ever create! Her Poise, her kindness and her artistic talent were evident at every meeting prior to the wedding. The natural beauty of this young woman was echoed by her vision of her soon to be wedding reception. Graceful maidenhair fern,various moss species and dripping clematis are some of the items that come to mind when I envision the candle lit ballroom.
The following June morning her family held a Quaker ceremony at the Haverford Meeting House. The classic bride wore a family heirloom gown from the early 19th century and a whimsical wreath in her cascading hair. The groom simply beamed at his stunning bride.
To be chosen for this memorable day I was both delighted and honored. Days like these are the ones we never forget.
For all those who might have forgotten Shakesphere's "A Mid-Summers Night's Dream," read below and see how we accomplished Megan's Fairytale.
A Midsummer Night's Wedding
Posted from the blog of Ann MacMullan.
I met the Nancy Saam flower gang at the Merion Cricket Club in Haverford, PA. Our mission: to create a wedding day in the tone of A Midsummer’s Night Dream. It was to be a whimsical woodland, a graceful garden, and a summery sweet setting; the type of shindig that the Fairy Queen herself would attend.
I know a bank whereon the wild thyme blows,
Where oxlips and the nodding violet grows
Quite over-canopied with luscious woodbine,
With sweet musk-roses, and with eglantine:
There sleeps Titania some time of the night,
Lulled in these flowers with dances and delight;
And there the snake throws her enamelled skin,
Weed wide enough to wrap a fairy in.
Yet marked I where the bolt of Cupid fell:
It fell upon a little western flower,
Before milk-white, now purple with love’s wound,
And maidens call it, Love-in-idleness.
Things base and vile, holding no quantity,
Love can transpose to form and dignity.
Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind,
And therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.
What hempen home-spuns have we swaggering here,
So near the cradle of the fairy queen?
What angel wakes me from my flowery bed?
So we grew together,
Like to a double cherry, seeming parted,
But yet an union in partition;
Two lovely berries moulded on one stem;
So, with two seeming bodies, but one heart.