Brigadoon

They placed me in the Witness Protection Program and I wound up here, in this strange town, which might be in Ireland, but I'm not sure.
The countryside is beautiful, filled with rolling hills and heather. Sunsets are incredible. The men are vibrant, rowdy, salt of the earth, getting drunk, telling tales, singing ditties. The women have all the patience and tolerance one could imagine, since they seem to do most of the work.
Sometimes, in the gloaming, the whole village sits on a hillside watching the sun go down. And there are moments, if you wait long enough, you can see the silhouettes of a man and woman dancing below. Passionate, elegant, graceful. They move closer-- the man is strong and dark haired and the woman long legged, just as dark with flowing mane. They whirl and embrace and he lifts her impossibly high into the purple scarred sky.
We stare in wonder as the sun and the fluid couple softly disappear and night draws its quilt over the place called Brigadoon.