the abomination of desolation

In the foot hills of heaven there's a rocky path that is pleasant to hike along.
The air is fresh here and the light looks a bit like the Summer of 1976.
The views are rather good too.
Every prospect pleases.
Tree lines, and ridges, and cool arbours, and rocky outrcrops, and here and there sudden surprising meadows with the grass up to your knees.
The setting is like the backdrop for one of Terence Malik's better filmic set pieces, only sort of effortless and not so self conscious or pretentious, and without the fear of any dissonant castings of Richard Gere showing up to mar things.
I found a field and sprawled in it.
The grasses sighing ever so gently.
Presently Jesus came by.
"Don't worry," he said, "she's with me."