Yesterday at sunset I went walking on the beach next to my house. It was a lovely evening, the sun dropping beneath a phalanx of red-tipped clouds, waves crashing - and right there in the middle of it all, a couple was getting married.
Picture a hundred local folks of every shade and hue in business casual and barefoot on the cool evening sand. Bridal party strolling in pairs down the improvised aisle, groom and his parents, then the bride and hers.
They get married. Everyone cheers and throws flowers.
And then they, the bride and groom, in full wedding regalia, bolt for the water. The groom strips his jacket as he runs, dives head first into a wave, the bride sprinting after him, bridal train billowing.
There they are, smiling and bobbing as the waves crash, as everyone mobs the shore taking pictures.
Then the bride takes a barrel wave and rides it all the way into shore.
And the entire beach, wedding guests and and all the rest of us, goes mad with joy.
(Just in case you forgot life was also beautiful.)