It began majestically. A master of Irish bagpipes and a drummer, both in kilts, marched slowly along the edge of the stream and filled the valley with rhythmical and haunting music. Then came the wedding party, parents, brothers, friends, the groom, and finally the bride and her father. The service took place at an altar by the coursing water in a setting as beautiful as anyone could envision, sunlight streaming through to touch the red hair of the groom and the black hair of the bride. Ripples of light, reflecting off the shimmering water, capered against trees across the brook. When the two were pronounced husband and wife, the hillside, now rampant with guests, erupted in joyful applause. It was magical. It might have been Brigadoon. The nuptial party move...

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