I’m standing with other people in front of the entrance—almost on the threshold—to a tall, bright, stone church perched on a hilltop. In front of me stretches the view of the valley, buildings in the distance and the hill opposite covered with trees; the atmosphere is like that of an ancient city—sandstone church, sunny day.
As we stand at the entrance, crumbled fragments of the facade fall from above at our feet. I think I see a clock face among the shards. The priest standing next to me says that a lamp has fallen—I have the impression he's explaining the building's condition.
This church stands on a narrow path on a hill; we're all standing on it. I look down: the stone wall or slope drops steeply. At the bottom—as if several stories below—I see a low (maybe a meter high) cylindrical structure of stone or concrete, ending in a tapering spiral. I conclude that it is a well, because I “see” water swirling beneath it, beginning to burst above the ground. My second thought is that this turbulent water is probably the cause of the church's crumbling facade. I feel/see that the water is about to shoot up with great force, and that the ground here is unstable—the path we're all standing on could crumble. I say we need to get down from here, or leave. While all this is going on, I’m actually pretty calm; I’m just noticing it all.
The path only leads to the left. I take the lead. It turns out the path doesn't descend—I'm still climbing a narrow strip of stones, always uphill. The path unfurls almost like a ribbon in the air, because I can't see anything on either side. After a few steps, I encounter two shadowy figures with indistinct shapes blocking my path. I ant to walk around them, but I can't, because they are standing side by side and won’t move out of the way, and there isn’t enough room on the path for me to get past them without falling off the path.