I thought perhaps I was dreaming when I woke this morning to angel song wafting in the tent with the cool morning morning air. As I slowly woke, I realized that it was real singing, and that it was nearby. I crawled out of the tent to investigate. Our campsite was near a wide meadow, but only the spire-like haystacks and dew-drenched spiderwebs populated the meadow. It seemed that the singing was coming from the beautiful Zakopane-style wooden home next door. The windows facing us were open, and as the lace curtains fluttered, I realized that the room was full of nuns. So we were camping next to a convent, and it WAS angles singing after all.