A WEDDING CEREMONY, CHAPTER 6, by THE WEDDING PHOTOGRAPHER IN LISBON
When the bride arrives at St. George’s Castle in Lisbon for the wedding ceremony
The enchanted Moorish princesses
Without wanting to go back to the knights and princesses, some enchanted Moorish, who have passed through the gate of St. George’s Castle in Lisbon, the sometimes exaggerated imagination of the wedding photographer can’t help it. But, don’t you think? A
castle where Moorish kings once lived. If there were kings, there were queens and, either because they had princesses or because they needed them, it is known that all Moorish princesses were enchanted, including those who lived in this castle.
Afterward, they, the kings and queens, had to go elsewhere but, according to the tales I was told when I was a child, the enchanted princesses remained to enchant those who took their places. They no longer exist today, it seems. But with a little imagination, and it doesn’t take much, who looks more like a princess and who might well be, or be, enchanted?
A bride, of course. At least that’s how the wedding photographer and I like to think. Now think, imagine it’s more beautiful.
A bride who appears like this…
A bride will appear out of nowhere, as evidenced by the photographs below, and she prepares to enter the castle, through the big door, surrounded by the glebe who makes way for her, too, the glebe, coming from the four corners of the world, because back in the day of them, the enchanted princesses, the world was square and well may it continue to frame the story, I guess it can only be…enchanted.
The thing was so strange that the wedding photographer, who was waiting for her and even knew which way she came from and despite his keen eye and used to finding pictures before they were, looked and looked and suddenly she appeared out of nowhere.
The photographer’s enchantment
What else could it be but enchantment? Either of the old ones, of those who are told that they happened here, or of the wedding photographer who already knows that as soon as they, the princesses, no, the brides, appear to him in the viewfinder of his camera, they, the photographs, will start in quantity and diversity leaving him perfectly enchanted with what is happening.
So, for the wedding photographer, that August morning turned him into a chronicler with lenses instead of quill and paper, and he too, in a way, was a witness that enchantment exists in any era, something that will be confirmed in the next chapter when they see the groom when she, his princess, appeared in front of him. Enchanted, of course.
The wedding photographer witnessed it, you’ll see.
