A wedding of tradition, coral blooms, and a sacred fire as the downs turned gold.

At East Afton Farmhouse, an eighteenth-century house of pale stone set above downland that rolls away in gold and green, Ashlie and Srini married twice over, one celebration flowing into the next. The first ended in a confetti shower on the farmhouse lawn, Ashlie in a low-backed lace gown and Srini in a dark suit, their tuxedo-collared dog trotting the petal-strewn aisle ahead of them.

Inside the whitewashed barn, bare wooden feasting tables filled the room beneath a suspended cartwheel strung with trailing foliage and blooms hung on fine threads. The styling struck a confident clash of coral and cornflower blue: peach gerberas and zinnias in fluted bud vases, blue pressed-glass goblets, amber hobnail votives, tasselled menus and apricot muslin napkins. A three-tier buttercream cake stood heaped with roses, gerberas and carnations.

As the light lowered, the celebration shifted entirely. Ashlie reappeared in a red-and-gold lehenga and Srini in an ivory sherwani, the pair garlanded in fresh coral blooms before a sacred fire burning in a cast-iron bowl, brass thalis of offerings at their feet and the women around them luminous in jewel-toned saris. It all closed out in the long grasses, Ashlie and Srini folded together as the sun flared low and golden behind them.