Failed apocalypse

It was the fields behind the farmhouse - a dreamy, mythical, apocalyptic light that photos absolutely don't and can't capture. I looked at the trees in the distance; they were floating in a light mist pierced by the sun's rays, and behind this natural gateway, we could make out a field, other trees, all the way to the horizon. I thanked God for leading me there, and we crossed the barrier of trees. All was silent, and with the light so intense, it seemed as if the world was about to let us in on a secret. But there was just one more field. We returned to the car.