“Ali is such an amazing photographer. She takes the time to learn what is important about you and makes sure to capture all of the special little nuggets on the wedding day. She is incredibly thoughtful with shot lists and helps you build a perfect one. Everyone at my wedding loved her, and her work speaks for itself. She made the day easier. Would 1000% recommend.”

This wasn’t the Irish backyard wedding I had on my 2025 mood board… but don’t tell me this one in Tennessee didn’t carry the same soul as a garden gathering in Ireland.

Sure, Belle Meade, Tennessee is a long way from Dublin Bay. But Ellen and Chris had that same pull-you-in, feed-you-well, leave-you-more-full-than-when-you-came kind of magic you’d expect from backyard weddings on the Emerald Isle. The kind of slow-living, joy-soaked day that doesn’t sweat timelines or tablescapes.

The whiskey flowed, the dogs roamed free, and love was the loudest thing in the room (family came in a close second).

Four hours of coverage, fifty humans, one whiskey bottle buried in a flower pot, and a grandma guided by her three sons. It was cinematic chaos and backyard-wedding-core in the best way.

This is everything a backyard wedding should be: loose in structure, rich in heart, and just the right amount of unhinged.

Oh, and the film roll… buckle up, kids. (Obsessed? That’s putting it lightly.)

Vendors | Post-Wedding Venue: Nicky’s Nashville | Rentals: Art Pancake’s Party and Weddings | Cake: Baked on 8th | Rings: Gossage Jewelers | Bride’s Dress: Brides by Glitz | Groom’s Suit: Indochino | Dress Alterations: Claudia Veres Design

What Happens When You Trade a Wedding Venue for Your Uncle’s Backyard

No venue. No production schedule. No seating chart gridlock. Just home turf and their favorite people.

They knew what mattered. And they went all in on it.

Florist? Swapped for Uncle Jody’s wildflower clippings. Designer dog accessories? Nope, Ellen stitched the wedding collars herself. Kids tore through the house, grass-stained and glassware-oblivious. Dogs crashed group hugs and photobombed portraits.

And Ellen’s dress? A masterpiece by hour one: streaked with mud, splashed with red wine, pressed with paw prints and blades of grass. This was a dress that had lived.

Pour, blot, pour, blot.

When her mom gasped at the first stain, Ellen just said: “Mom, it’s okay. I promise. That’s life. It’s messy.”

The moment behind the mess always matters more than the mess itself. Zeus the Dog got tangled up with Ellen and gave her one of her favorite memories— and me, one hell of a shot.

The Family Photo I Can’t Stop Thinking About

I’ve been leaning hard into film this year, and it’s reshaping everything—

How I frame things. When I press the shutter. What I leave untouched. (For this wedding? A LOT). 

Film slows you down, makes you trust you got the shot. It doesn’t just show you the moment— it asks you to feel it, deeply.

Some of my favorite images from the day came from a roll of Ilford HP5 400 I instinctively threw in my bag as I was walking out the door. They’re uncropped and a little off-kilter— like they just stepped off the photo strip.

But the photo that stopped me cold wasn’t even on film.

It’s Ellen’s grandmother, wrapped in a blue sweater, surrounded by her three sons. Six hands steadying her, guiding her, the way she once did for them.

The second it popped up on my screen, I paused the music, full-screened it, and just… sat with it. (Tears? Yeah. A few.)

Aside from a few minor color corrections, it’s completely untouched. No cropping or filters. She’s perfect just the way she is.

This is stillness. This is attention. This is exactly why I do what I do.

Why A Backyard Wedding Might Be the Real Dream

You’d think a whiskey bottle buried in a flower pot would be the main character of cocktail hour. 

But no. The kids and the dogs totally stole the show. That’s the magic of backyard weddings: there’s room for real life to happen. (And no one’s charging you $28 a head for chicken fingers, either.)

This wedding wouldn’t have been this wedding without kids darting through the grass during cocktail hour, dogs leaning into legs, and lollipops and little bows scattered on every surface.

The adult guests couldn’t help themselves—drifting from the bar to join the joy, letting their own inner child have a turn.

It was chaos. It was peace. It was exactly what Ellen and Chris wanted.

Why They Buried a Bottle of Whiskey (And Yes, It Worked)

And then, somewhere in the middle of it all, they unearthed some whiskey from a flower pot. 

Southern tradition says bury a bottle of whiskey upside down at your venue to keep the rain away.

Problem: Ellen’s uncle had just redone the lawn. Solution: bury it in a flower pot.

Right after the ceremony, they unearthed it and took a swig, straight from the bottle.

The rain held off. Clouds rolled in, but the poolside first dance and singalong to Rocky Top went off without a hitch. Not a drop in sight. Southern magic? I’d say so.

Ireland or Tennessee: Magic is Where You Make It

Sometimes four hours is all it takes.

A whiskey bottle in a flower pot.
A dress that tells the story before you do.
A family photo that stops time in its tracks.

When I think about what weddings are supposed to feel like, this is it. Not the structured photoshoots, but the presence of family and permission to let the day happen as days do (and a roll of Ilford HP5 400 to give it life). 

Give me Ireland or Tennessee. A country home or a cliffside cottage. If it’s got slow-living soul and family-first heart? I’m there.

Passport packed. Ready when you are.