Someplace snowy, wet and cloudy had me wandering around the streets. No one had lawns just expanses of dirt and topsoil in their front yard and all the trees were barren even the conifers. The streets were empty, no cars, no people, no animals but there weren't any incursions of grass, shrubs or trees instead the road was clear of any detrius and debris.

Around sunset I came upon a white wooden church. There were two shirtless blacks who were throwing buckets of whitewash on the building. I reckon their task was nearly complete because the walls had a bit of a glow from the fresh paint. Their final task was painting the chimney which didn't seem to be complete or near completion in a decent amount of time. Each splash of white would flow down to the ground leaving bare brick and mortar much to the worker's consternation.

Inside the church everything was cluttered like a well-lit attic. Around this point my memory of the dream started breaking up and falling back into the darkness of non-dreams.