Destined to Shoot: How An Elopement Found Me in New Zealand (and Led to Idaho)
Some shoots simply fall onto your calendar.
Others feel like they were written into your life long before you realized it.
Brandon and Connor’s elopement was the second kind — the kind of story that shows up softly at first and then unfolds into something that feels undeniably meant for you.
They reached out to me nearly two years ago, telling me they were engaged and planning an elopement for the following summer. At the time, I was preparing to move to New Zealand for several months. I told them I’d be gone the first half of the year, unsure if our timelines would ever align.
And then something wild happened.
A few months later, they messaged me again saying, “You’re never going to believe this, but… we’re actually coming to New Zealand. And we’ll be in Christchurch on this exact date.”
It just so happened that not only was I living in Christchurch — I was free that day.
I didn’t have a car, so I walked to the burger place where we planned to meet. We talked like we already knew each other, bonded over hiking and birds and photography, and suddenly this elopement didn’t feel like a booking. It felt like a story I was stepping into.
Fast forward almost a year.
I had just moved back to Utah, settling into life in Salt Lake City again, when we finalized plans for their elopement. They chose Sawtooth Lake in Stanley, Idaho — a 10-mile round-trip hike with a reward that feels unreal: turquoise water, jagged peaks, and a beauty that makes you go silent in appreciation.
They rented the sweetest Airbnb for the weekend. I drove up with my twin sister (my favorite little assistant and emotional support human), and the four of us — plus their dog, Whiskey — spent the evening talking about growing up queer in Utah and Idaho, the beautiful and complicated parts, the similarities in our stories. It felt intimate, real, grounding.
On elopement day, we packed our bags with film cameras, Polaroids, snacks, water, and dog treats, then made the hike to Sawtooth Lake. The light at the top was unreal — soft evening glow, air turning golden as they exchanged vows with their hands shaking just a little.
It was just the two of them, their dog, myself, and my sister. No guests. No noise. Just intention, beauty, and the gentle sound of the wind moving across the lake.
I shot the whole thing on film, digital, and Polaroid. Every frame felt like a love letter — to them, to the queer community, to long-distance alignment, to the way certain people just find you. And how the shoot was meant to happen, for me, long before I could have every dreamed it up.
That’s the part that stays with me:
this shoot didn’t feel like coincidence.
It felt like a story that traveled across the world to reach me.
And now I get to call them my friends.
