The Elders and the young guns will come from far and wide, to sniff the cool sea breeze and join the many clansman gathered by the sea.
For kinship ties are strong and the song lines are long, when mobs of broadcasters and filmmakers come to show their hand.
There will be Peel, who made his name out on the lands, no one can match the old man with thinning hair and sunburnt face, when he takes the stand to speak.
He will talk and barely take a breath, or stop to take a drink, until the sun goes down and broadcasters and filmmakers, with bowed heads and tired eyes, turn their heads for home.
And the G will come to lend a hand, no better broadcaster ever held the mike; he learnt his trade with Tilly when analogue was king, he shook his head when BRACS became the RIBS and Quickly moved to Digital, where Black Star is the game.