A didgeridoo played as Anthea walked down the aisle. The music echoed across the mountain. It's deep throb swelled in my chest and spilled out across my skin in goose bumps. The good kind. 

And when I looked at these two through my viewfinder—Rusty, a Pitjantjatjara man, Anthea, a Tamborine Mountain girl—I saw two special souls perfectly matched and now united forever.