It is dusk in the mountains. About a dozen people are hiking single file along a trail. I’m at the end of the line, trying to keep up.
The trail comes down through a dark pine forest, crosses a small stream, then continues up a gentle slope through a meadow. Now I can see the line of hikers stretching ahead. The sun has gone down behind a range of tall magestic mountains in the west. The evening sky is aglow with the sunset.
As I hike up the hill through the meadow, I come upon what is left of an old house. Only the foundation remains. The trail leads up a short flight of concrete steps, across the foundation and out the back.
There is a design inlaid on each step in clear glass bricks. I look down as I step over the design. The design in each step is in the shape of a cross. In the darkening light I see a warm glow coming up through the glass. It seems to be following along under me while I’m walking.
I suddenly feel like rejoicing and wake up with the thought ringing in my head, “The path that I thought was dead is still alive!”