It's 1998, and you're walking through RAF Bassingbourn.
Jets. Military vehicles of a hundred different kinds. Ordnance. Soldiers everywhere. A place of hardened souls devoted to the grim business of war.
And in the middle of it -- is that *singing?*
You stop outside one particular aircraft hangar. You're not allowed in, but you peer through the open doors.
What you see astounds you: a maze of scaffolding decorated in what appear to be large Celtic sigils. A stage. And an ethereal woman in a flowing green dress, the picture of Ireland herself, moving one muscle at a time across that stage -- singing.
The tune is haunting but somehow comforting. You're not sure you've ever heard it before -- or did you hear it in your childhood and forget? -- but it seems timelessly familiar, somehow. Your feet are frozen in place. This is simply the *last* thing you expected to encounter. And there, surrounded by concrete and metal, you find yourself drifting back in time a thousand years.
There, in an aircraft hangar in the middle of an English military base, is an Irish woman singing you into a fantasy land.
The song: Marble Halls.
The woman: Anne Buckley.
And this is never-before-seen rehearsal footage of Planet Ireland bringing beauty to the dark. The magic is real.
Planet Ireland arises: 2021.