It’s this past weekend and I walk with sand blowing against the back of my legs, stinging my ankles in Arcadia, Michigan on the wild shores of a lake I do not know very well. It’s Lake Michigan and it looks like Mexico. Huge bluffs are mountains in the distance and we see no one as far as the eye can see. I’m here for another wedding, this time not to sing, just to celebrate with an unexpected sink into quicksand, a plunge into the waves and a beach bonfire under the stars.