I was looking at the round tower of the small renaissance chateau in the Burgundy village of Jours Les Baigneur and then I had a dream about it. I thought my faith was about as strong as the small blades of grass growing at the base of the massive tower. The tower was faith and truth and my efforts were the few blades of grass at the bottom.

Talking of faith, we visited the Cistercian Abbey of Fontenay. The Cistercians observed not only a simple way of life, but a simple style of architecture. We avoided the guided tours with their constant noise, and I walked up the great nave of the Abbey Church. I could feel the weight of centuries of prayer. But in the end, Fontenay is only a museum. At one time it was a paper works, with great bales stacking up in the church.

That evening, we walked around the Medieval village of Flaviers and waited for Compline to start in the Abbey. I was astonished, knowing British monasteries, at how many monks kept amassing. Fifty monks singing the Salve Regina is an awesome sound of beauty and faith, especially in the deep twilight of the chapel, with only a few candles and the statue of the virgin lit up.