I woke up in the middle of the night, worrying about what to do about various problems and came to a decision. But I could not shake off a vague depression at having made the wrong decision until, in a French garden, I heard the Angelus ring out.

Maybe there is no one left working in the fields of France today, or maybe no one stops when the bells of the local college ring out, but it is a soothing sound of a long history of culture and faith.