What the air does out here
A white tent stands between the peach rows at Mile 30, and the string lights are coming on just ahead of the toast. Trays of flutes circulate, ripe peach swirled with sparkling prosecco. The couple met at a backyard on Maple Street and figured the rest out at an orchard stand, and half the valley can testify to both.
Who rides with it
The maid of honor, holding two flutes and one speech. An usher from the original Maple Street party. The folding-chair crew that sets up every event in this valley. There are still paper cups at this party, but only at the kids' table, which considers itself the better party.
Pair it at the next stop
Mile 12 promised that when the party graduated from paper cups, the upgrade would pour here, and here it pours: met at that backyard, turned into something at Love Spell, Mile 25, toasted tonight. The road past the tent is still under survey, which suits everyone; honeymoons take a while.
A gravel road leaves the highway at this marker: The Orchard House Drive, half a mile of gravel between the peach rows, ends at a candle.